


What Now?

by Rose_Stem



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-All Out War Arc (Walking Dead), Rick doesn't die, Romance, Sexual Content, based on tv show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-12-28 14:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 77,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Stem/pseuds/Rose_Stem
Summary: Daryl and Paul have been through a lot together and alone. After a the war which has devastated all the communities, they are both asking themselves 'what now?'With Negan locked up in Alexandria, Daryl has some decisions to make. Will he stay at Hilltop? Will he go back to Alexandria? Will he forgive Rick for keeping their enemy alive after he's taken so much from them? Will he regret agreeing to a causal arrangement with Paul?Paul is equally as conflicted, trying to find his place in the world everyone is working tirelessly to create. With a past that is always haunting him, how can he move on and look towards the future?Needless to the say, both men are at a crossroads and the only thing they know for sure is that they keep being thrown together. When they finally give into temptation, it will not be as easy as they might have thought to separate sex and emotion.





	1. The Run

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of these two characters being together! Just wanted to write something that made it happen :) Will be updating tags as I go along because I have no idea where I'm going with this. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Will do my best at editing, but not great at it to be honest!

“Hey, Daryl, wait up!”

Daryl turned his head, stomach tightening when he realised who had called him_. Jesus. Paul._ The last person he wanted to speak to in Hilltop. The guy was a distraction and a temptation that he didn’t need.

For everyone else’s sake, he kept his voice mild as he answered. “What?”

Paul – damn if he was calling the man Jesus - stopped beside him, frowning slightly. “Didn’t Maggie tell you I was coming out with you?”

It might have purposefully slipped his mind. “I’m going out on my bike,” he answered. Wasn’t really an answer at all, but it was the only one he was willing to give.

“No, we’re taking the Rover. Maggie gave me the name of the town we’re supposed to hit up.”

Daryl shifted, adjusting his crossbow, “I can go by myself.”

“So can I,” Paul responded, “but with the current situation, it’s best if we don’t.”

The current situation. Daryl suppressed a snort. Negan was locked up in a cell in Alexandria and most of the Saviours were under control, but as always, life wasn’t that fucking simple. Some of the Saviours had skipped Sanctuary and were out for blood.

In the last month, two people had gone missing from Hilltop. Mary and Jessie. A few days later, their bodies had been dumped outside the gates with the letter S carved into their backs. They had been so fucking naïve to think that taking Negan out of the game would ensure a peaceful life.

A part of Daryl had never believed it. He’d wanted Negan gone as much as the next person, more, considering his captivity at Sanctuary, but he had always known that the fighting wouldn’t stop. There were always more walkers, more assholes, more psychotic bastards who had been twisted by the world.

“We go out in groups. That’s what we all agreed,” Paul reminded him.

“I never agreed to shit.” The constant company was grating his already shredded nerves. He had stayed silent at that meeting, knowing he would just be lying if he agreed to the ‘safety precaution’.

Paul’s features hardened. “Well I did. Maggie doesn’t need anymore stress, so you’re going to stop being an asshole for a second and we’re going out together.”

“Fine,” he said, grabbing his pack from beside his bike. He didn’t have the energy to argue about something so fucking stupid. At least he knew Paul could handle himself; he could be stuck with one of the inexperienced people from Hilltop that were next to useless beyond the gates.

Half an hour later, they were on the road, silence stretching between them. Paul had offered to drive and Daryl had agreed just to get him to shut up.

It didn’t last long. “Are you planning on staying at Hilltop?”

Daryl sighed heavily. “Don’t know.”

Paul flicked him a glance. “You’re a good fit. People are still a bit weary, but they respect you.”

What did he say to that? If he had his way, he would go live in the woods by himself. None of his friends would accept that so he had no choice to stay at one of the communities. Alexandria didn’t feel like home to him, not after all the shit that had gone down with Negan. Because of that shit, he didn't know where he stood with Rick and Michonne anymore.

The Kingdom? Wasn’t really his kind of thing. Carol was there, but she was building a good life for herself. She didn’t need to be shackled with him, leaving Hilltop as his best option.

“I might stay,” he offered, unsure why he felt the need.

Which was his problem with Paul. Daryl never understood why, but he felt guilty when he spoke to the man like shit. He spoke to the man like shit because he was attracted to him. He had no desire to get attached to another person so he made the decision to stay away.

Should have been simple.

Paul had other ideas. When everyone was winding down for the night, Paul always sought him out, asking about his day, what his plans were, who he had seen, if he was okay. Always fucking talking to him.

Daryl had learned to keep his sexuality to himself from a young age. Growing up in a family like his, he was never going get support from his dad or his brother. So he never made an issue of it and when he got old enough to fuck around, he did it away from home.

Then the world went to hell and fucking was the furthest thing from his mind. Until he’d met Paul.

His friends knew about him being gay. He even thought they might have guessed that he wanted Paul’s ass, but none of them had mentioned anything. Paul was always giving him eyes. Daryl didn’t know if he even meant to do it, but the facts were the facts.

“You should. We need people who know how to fight, how to be out here.”

“You seem to pull a lot of the weight there,” Daryl commented. It was something he had thought about a few times. No one at Hilltop was eager to get beyond the gates and recruit or search for supplies.

Paul shrugged. “I’m good at it, but they rely on me too much. When there’s a few good months in row, it’s easy to forget that anyone could be killed at any point. If I died, I would like to know that there is someone else there willing to do what I do.”

The easy way Paul talked about his own death was like a knife to Daryl’s gut. “You ain’t dying any time soon.”

A soft curve of the lip. “I hope not, but nothing is certain. Even before all this, life had a way of sweeping the rug from out beneath me and now, it’s a lot more common that it used to be. I’m glad I’ve made it this far, got to the point where we’re trying to build a life again, instead of just surviving.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, thinking about all the people who met along the way who believed they could accomplish it, but hadn’t lived long enough to see the foundations.

“Now that you’ve stopped pretending you’re mute, are you going to tell me why you were going to leave me behind? I know you. You don’t forget anything.”

Looking out the window, he deliberated telling him the truth. In the end he decided to go with the truth; he’d spent too many hours trying to think of ways to avoid the guy and it was getting old. “I think you know why.”

He turned to meet Paul’s surprised gaze. “I thought I was going to have to work for days to get that out of you.”

“Yeah, well. Life’s too short.”

Paul chuckled, “Yep. I don’t think it’s a secret that I want to fuck you.”

_Jesus Christ. _Daryl had always thought he was a straightforward kind of guy. Paul took it to another level with his honesty. He felt the words all the way down to his cock. “I’m not looking for anything.”

“Anything, _anything_? Or a relationship? If that’s what you’re worried about, I don’t want a relationship either. Done that before and it just messes everything up. But I can do friends with benefits.”

“Everyone always says that and it turns to shit,” Daryl grumbled, wondering why he was fightin’ it.

Paul slid him a glance. “I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but I’m not like most people. It’s simple – we’re attracted to each other, single. We can have sex without it getting complicated. I used to do it all the time.”

Daryl’s lips turned, “Yeah, were you a slut?”

“A little bit. Always safe though,” he smiled. Fuck, he had a great smile. “If you’re not up for it, then I’ll be disappointed because I think we’d have a good time, but I won’t cry about it. Think about it. We’ve only got a couple of days until go back so maybe make up you’re mind quickly. I don’t want to have to be quiet for my first time with you.”

Without realising it, Daryl laughed. Shit, this was going to be one interesting run.

Five hours later they arrived at their destination. A small town called Kline with a few warehouses that had a good chance of being relatively untouched. They worked for another couples of hours, sorting through boxes and loading whatever could be of use onto the Rover.

They only spoke a few times, but that didn’t stop Daryl from watching the other man when he was concentrating on moving the supplies from one spot to another. He had appreciated the quiet strength in Paul’s body since they had first met. Now sex had been put on the table, he couldn’t stop thinking about how that body was twist beneath him, arching for more.

What would sex with Paul be like?

_Fire._ He could almost feel the flames on his skin. See the intensity of pleasure washing over his pretty face.

Shit. Daryl wanted to hate Paul for cementing the idea in his head. For months he had imagined them fucking, but they had been passing thoughts that died a quick death with everything else going on around him. What he was dealing with now was all-consuming because nothing was stopping him from taking what Paul offered.

Only his own fucked up head.

Even before the end of the world sex had never been easy for him. Everyone else seemed to enjoy it for what it was. Connecting with another person. For Daryl, it had just been a form of physical release. He never cared about anyone he fucked.

Paul…whether he wanted to admit it or not, Daryl cared about him. His life. Enough to feel his body stiffen every time he saw walk through the gates of Hilltop with one injury or another. So it wasn’t simple, even though he wanted it to be.

He wasn’t sure how he would react to having sex with someone he gave a shit about.

Leaving the warehouse, Daryl made sure he was paying attention to his surroundings. Getting lost in thought wasn’t the best of ideas outside the walls; if he didn’t get his head out of his ass, he would be walker food.

Paul kicked open the door, bringing another box with him. Daryl watched as he loaded it up into the Rover. “It’s getting late. We should find somewhere to lay low for the night. I’ve only been through here a couple of times so it might take some time to find somewhere suitable.”

Daryl nodded. “I’m gettin’ hungry, you bring anything good?”

“Just some sandwiches, but considering you didn’t want me to come with you, I think I’ll keep them all to myself,” Paul teased. “Maybe if you ask me nicely…”

Flirtin’, the guy was flirtin’ with him. Huh. “Think I could just take them from you.”

Paul eye’s widened, desire shooting from them. “I wouldn’t mind letting you try,” he said, taking a step closer. Daryl licked his lips, heart pounding in his chest. Paul fingered his vest, tugging him forward.

So close to tasting the man who had been driving him crazy from the moment they had first met.

A groan had them tearing apart, becoming alert in an instant. A walker stumbled close to the car, it’s outstretched arms reaching for Paul. Like the ninja he was, he dodged the grip expertly and sent his knife sailing into the walker’s head.

Fuck, that had been stupid. Getting lost in Paul’s grip had been as dumb as getting lost in his own head.

“We should go,” he told Paul, walking around to the driver’s seat.

Paul gave him a look, “I can drive.”

“No, you drove all the way here without a stop. I’ll drive and take first shift later.”

He got in the car so he didn’t have to listen to the argument he could about to come from Paul’s mouth. Daryl should have known that wouldn’t stop him. “Before we started going out in groups, I used to do long trips like this by myself. I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to.” Though he knew how hard it could be to allow someone else to watch your back.

Paul sighed. “Yeah. I’m still getting used to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Hilltop, but I miss getting out by myself sometimes. Living on top of all those people reminds me of being a kid.”

“Big family?” Daryl asked, again unsure why he was curious about Paul.

Paul snorted, “Opposite. No family.”

Huh, he always figured that Paul was from a middle-class, fancy background. “That’s one of the reasons I ‘accidently on purpose’ forgot we were meant to be doing this together. Just never get a chance to be alone anymore.”

“So it didn’t work out the way you wanted, but if you take me up on my offer, it means we can be alone together.”

His cheeks heated. “Do you like tryin’ to get a reaction out of me? Throwing those comments out there like that.”

“Yes,” Paul admitted, grinning. “I’m pretty much an open book so I don’t do bullshit, but it is fun watching you squirm a little. You were with guys before this, right?” Daryl nodded, eyes focused on the road. “How did you hook up with them? I’ve always had to be straight up about it. Can’t sit around for months trying to figure out if a man is into cock or not.”

Daryl shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Just happened.”

“Of course it did,” Paul let out an airy laugh. 

“If you want me to believe you’ve ever had a problem getting laid, you can forget it.” Someone who looked like Paul would have guys lining up. Putting the way he looked to one side, people were drawn in by his easy attitude.

“No, I’ve always been good in that area. But sometimes wires get crossed and I’m not always great at reading signals so I learnt pretty quickly to get my intention out there,” he paused, eyes meeting Daryl’s, “am I reading this right?”

Hadn’t they already had this conversation?

Daryl grunted his assent.

“So you’re not going to punch me when I kiss you?”

“Only if you talk shit instead of getting on with it.”

Daryl was a man of action, always had been. Talking shit to death was pointless and a waste of time. Every interaction he’d had with Paul told him that the guy could talk until he was blue in the face. It bugged the hell out of him that he was attracted to a man like that. Never had been before.

Maybe that was what the end of the world did to a person. For good or bad, it had definitely changed him. He was less an asshole than he had once been, but he had killed people. A lot of people. How did that work?

He had much closer connections with people now, but he was more jaded than ever.

“If we do this, we’re just fucking,” Daryl said, knowing he was going over old ground. But he needed it to be understood.

Paul’s reply came quickly. “I told you, that suits me just fine.”

“Tonight then,” he confirmed, anticipation dancing all over his skin, “once we’ve found a place, made it secure.”

Their eyes met. “Tonight,” Paul repeated.


	2. Huh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update!  
Hope you enjoy :)

“That one?” Daryl asked, head pointing towards a large detached house to the left.

Paul studied the property, taking a quick assessment. “Looks good to me.”

Daryl nodded, turning the car into the driveway. “We should put the car in the garage in case there are any other people around.”

“Might not work,” Paul said, attempting to keep his tone even. Now that Daryl had confirmed his attraction, talking about something as mundane as the mechanics of a garage door was a difficult task. His mind was on the night ahead. “Could be an electronic system. I’ll go check, wait in the car.”

For a second it looked like Daryl would argue, but all he said was ‘be careful.’

Paul left the van and tried the front door. Locked. As they planned on it being their temporary home for the night, he didn’t want to damage the lock if were intact. He jogged around to the back door and used his skills honed from breaking and entering.

The house was nice, Paul thought. Probably owned by a solid couple who had provided a good home for their kids before the world went to shit. At least they had that before they had met their end. It was doubtful that they had survived this long, only a handful of people had.

Walking through the house, he noted that the place was pretty much untouched. Before they left, they needed to strip it bare and see if there was anything they could make use of at Hilltop.

Eager to get settled for the night, he did a precautionary sweep of the house before making his way to the garage. Luckily it was an old-school system that was based on a manual mechanism rather than an electronic one.

Opening the door, he waved Daryl in. It was a tight fit, but the Rover just above fit into the space. Once he has set the car in the spot, Daryl turned off the engine and climbed out the vehicle, his movements self-assured and confident.

It was good to see, reminding him of their first meeting. Daryl’s time with Negan had left scars on him, inside and out.

Realising he was staring, Paul closed the garage door, inadvertently plunging them into darkness. “Shit. Wait a second, I packed a few lanterns.”

Daryl grunted, causing an affection smile to tug at Paul’s lips.

Ten minutes later, he had located the lanterns, along with a few cans of soup and a small camping stove and the sandwiches he had mentioned earlier. Thankfully, inside the main structure of the house, there was a lot more light.

“I’m going to set up the cooking area in the kitchen. I did a quick sweep of the house, but if we’re going to be staying here, we probably need to be a bit more thorough and maybe put a few defences in place.”

“On it,” Daryl said, leaving Paul alone.

Used to his abrupt manner, Paul focused on the task of preparing their early dinner, impatient to begin _their_ night. He was finding it hard to believe that Daryl had actually admitted that he wanted him. He thought he was going have to work hard over the next couple of days to draw it out him.

He should have known Daryl would surprise the hell out of him.

“Food’s ready!” Paul called when he was done preparing the make shift dinner. Daryl strolled into the kitchen, crossbow slung on his back. “Everything okay?” Paul enquired, handing him a bowl of piping hot soup.

“Yeah, I did as much as I could for the entry points.”

Paul nodded, leading him to the dining room and gestured for him to take a seat at the table. When he had first started going on runs and making use people’s home, he had been crippled with a profound sense of guilt. Over time, it had worn off.

He liked to think they would want him to survive.

Sitting at the table with Daryl was a little awkward. The man was more accustomed to eating with his hands over an open fire; it was obvious he wasn’t comfortable with the more formal setting. Paul wasn’t particularly used to it either.

“Thanks,” Daryl muttered, lifting his spoon in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t do much,” he replied with practiced ease, “just heated some prepared food.”

Daryl studied him for a long second. “Why do you do that? Downplay what you do for people?”

Paul laughed, a reaction to being taken off guard by the question. “Like I said, all I did was heat up some soup.”

“I thought you were into honest talk,” Daryl tutted, goading him.

He swallowed a mouthful of soup, giving himself more time to answer. “Growing up the way I did, I always wanted to make myself useful because I recognised that if I was well behaved, I wouldn’t be passed around so much. I didn’t like that about myself, that I felt like I had to do that to be of some worth. When people thank me, it just reminds me of that feeling even though I know my motivation for helping people doesn’t come from the same place anymore.” He shook his head, “It’s stupid, but I guess stuff like that sticks with you, even after all this.”

“I get it. I don’t purposely think about the way I was raised, but there are times I can still hear my piece of shit dad’s voice in my ear.”

He did get it, Paul realised. Maybe something inside of him had always known that Daryl would understand some of what he had been through.

“If my past self could meet me how I am now, he wouldn’t recognise him. There’s not much of me that is the same from before so it just surprises me that shit still matters. Do you think you’ve changed much?”

Daryl lifted a shoulder. “Probably. Never been a big talker and that ain’t changed, but how I look at the world? Yeah. How I interact with people. I would have never gotten to know someone like you before.”

Paul smiled at that, “Oh yeah? Why?”

“Might of thought you were stuck up your own ass.”

“You think I’m stuck up?” Paul asked, taken back by the assessment.

“No, but the old me would have because of the way you talk and the way you act.”

Paul cocked his head, intrigued. “How do I talk and act?”

“Better than I do,” Daryl said easily.

Setting his spoon down, he gave Daryl his full attention. “I don’t think that’s true. I’ve seen the way you care for your family. You’re loyal, courageous. You’d take a bullet for any one of them.”

“Because they’re my family. Strangers? I don’t give a shit about. You do.”

_So do you,_ Paul wanted to say. He had seen it, time and time again, but for some reason Daryl was trying to convince himself otherwise and who was he to push the issue?

But he just couldn’t help himself. “You didn’t leave me out there to die when we first me. You could have.”

“Maybe I would have if I’d been on my own.”

Paul pondered that. “I’ve left people out there before,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” Daryl asked, lifting a brow.

“I knew they wouldn’t be a good fit. I’m not perfect, Daryl. I never have been and I never will be. I don’t want you to think that I am.”

“Trust me, I don’t,” he smiled. It was a genuine smile, the kind that he reserved for the people he called his friends.

Paul couldn’t help but return it. They continued to look at each other for a few moments, falling into the promise of the night ahead.

“So,” Paul said, “is everything secure?” It was a weighted question. Of course, their safety was important, but all he could think about was their promise to each other a few hours ago. _Tonight._ _Once we’ve made it secure. _

Daryl licked his lips. “Yeah.”

Desire pumped through his veins, as potent as he could ever remember it being. Probably because he had never had to wait so long to fuck the person he wanted. Daryl had been a long time coming and the anticipation was heightening his need.

Paul sensed Daryl’s hesitation. Was it second thoughts or was he out of practice? Paul wasn’t shy about sex, but he knew that wasn’t the case for everyone.

“Are you sure –

Daryl cut him off. “I’m sure. I just ain’t done this in a while.”

Out of practice then. He could work with that. Rising, Paul shrugged out of his coat and hung it across the chair he had just departed. Daryl’s eyes were on his body, taking the sight of him in without the long coat drowning his figure.

“You coming?” he asked, making his way to the stairs. A chair scraped along the floor, a sure sign that Daryl was following him. Paul’s heart sped up. For a second, he imagined he was the prey and Daryl was the hunter. Wasn’t too far from the truth.

Taking the stairs two steps at a time, he veered to the right, finding the master bedroom from luck rather than choice. It always amazed him when he stumbled across an immaculate home. For some reason – predominantly experience – he just assumed that walkers or other humans would have ruined what was left of the world.

“I put fresh sheets on the bed,” Daryl said from behind him, the comment surprising him more than it should. It was a gesture that he hadn’t expected, but should have.

Paul spun round and pressed his lips to Daryl’s mouth, loving the startled sound that escaped from him. His hands moved of their own accord, slipping around the other man’s waist and drawing him closer so their bodies touched as they explored each other’s mouths.

Moaning when Daryl nipped his lower lip, he ran his hands beneath Daryl’s shirt, the rock hard muscle quivering beneath his touch. Something close to a growl emerged from Daryl just before his hand circled around Paul’s neck and he deepened their kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Paul gasped, helping Daryl removed his shirt. The cold air skittered across his skin, but he was soon swept up in the furnace that was Daryl’s embrace to care about the cooling temperature.

A surprised yelp erupted when Daryl pushed him backwards, sending him flying into the bed with a thud. He watched as Daryl yanked off his shoes and then removed his vest and undershirt. His heavy chest was littered in scars. Some were faded, others were fresher. Even in the short time he had known Daryl he always seemed to be recovering from some injury or another.

Daryl wouldn’t quite meet his eye, as if were ashamed of the marks on his chest. Paul said nothing, intent on showing him that they didn’t matter him in the slightest. He simply sat up, hooking his finger in Daryl’s belt, pulling him closer.

Daryl’s weight finally settled upon, sending a thrill running down his spine. “I want your cock in my mouth,” he rasped.

“Fuck,” Daryl bit out. “Yes.”

With some effort, they reversed their positions so that Paul straddled the older man. If not for the large erection poking at his ass, he might have thought he was dreaming. Daryl had featured in his dreams often enough, but they had always lacked the raw masculine presence of the man himself.

They managed to wrestle the pants of Daryl’s strong legs before Paul lowered his boxers, slowly, as if he were opening a prize. In a second they were gone and his eyes landed on Daryl’s thick cock. It had been years since he had anything big inside of him and he was surprised to find he was actually a little nervous.

He knew Daryl would never hurt him, but it was always daunting to have sex with a new partner who didn’t know his body. He didn’t know theirs. First times were often awkward and clumsy; Paul didn’t want that for them.

“You good?” Daryl asked, voice gruff in the fading light.

Paul flashed his teeth. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Paul responded quickly. “You’re just…big.”

“Scared off by my cock?” Daryl smirked.

“Never,” he replied, snaking his hand around the base, stroking with deliberate slowness. His mouth covered the swollen tip. Daryl jerked beneath him, causing Paul to inwardly smile. He loved having control over such a wild man.

Hands threading into his hair, Paul took as much of the impressive length into his mouth as he could, sucking and licking. He massaged Daryl’s tight balls as he worked his mouth, intent on giving Daryl the blow job of his life.

If his raspy moans of pleasure were anything to go by, Paul’s skills hadn’t diminished as much he assumed during the last few years. Listening to Daryl growl out his name was as hot as hell, giving him all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hips bucked towards him, forcing Paul to take more of him. He would probably never admit it aloud to anyone, but he enjoyed the feeling of helplessness that washed over him. It heated his blood, sending it straight down to his aching cock.

“Stop, or I’m gonna come,” Daryl voice croaked out, pulling on Paul’s long hair.

Paul licked his lips, disappointed he wasn’t going to get to taste it today. Without much warning, Daryl burst into movement and had Paul pinned beneath him in seconds. The reversal of position was welcome, his entire body humming with awareness.

“These need to be gone,” Daryl said, roughly tugging on Paul’s worn jeans. Before Paul knew it they were and he was naked, his bare skin sizzling against Daryl’s. The man was a furnace.

“Lube in my jeans,” he managed to get out. It was almost impossible with Daryl’s eyes raking down the length of body, hands roaming everywhere except the places that Paul truly needed them. The next thing he felt was Daryl’s large fingers, slick with lube, massaging his entrance. This came at the same time as his hot mouth descending on his cock, giving Paul no choice but to cry out.

It had been a while since anyone other than himself had touched the most intimate parts of him. He had forgotten how potent the experience could be. Forgotten how he could lose his mind in an instant at the sensation of a finger sliding between his cheeks.

Daryl was stretching him, preparing him. Fucking seducing him.

“Please,” he whispered, unashamed to beg for it. He needed that cock inside of him, needed to feel something other than the aching loneliness that had been pressing at his heart.

Daryl grunted. “Gotta make sure you can take me.”

“I can,” Paul said with more conviction than he felt.

When Daryl hit his prostate with his fingers, Paul was certain he was going to cum. He didn’t, but only because Daryl clamped a hand around his cock, effectively denying him release. Fuck, he was so sensitive. So fucking ready to blow.

“Daryl, stop fucking around,” he pleaded.

“Hmm, I think I like you all hungry for me.”

Sweat began to form on Paul’s brow. “Please. Please.”

With the dying light it was difficult to see Daryl’s expression, but Paul assumed that it was satisfied. He didn’t give a shit as long as he got that cock –

“Ahhh,” he cried when Daryl’s cockhead slipped inside of him. He immediately angled his hips into a better position to ease the slight discomfort.

“You good?” Daryl bit out. “Relax.”

Easy for a person to say when they didn’t have a cock up their ass.

But Paul did relax, second by second, allowing Daryl to fully seat himself Paul’s body. He had never felt so full. “Fuck.”

Daryl leant down and took Paul’s mouth, his tongue mirroring the shallow thrusts of his cock. Paul’s body soon accommodated the large appendage and pleasure replacing the pinching sensation that had come before.

“Faster,” he demanded.

The other man took him at his word and increased the pace, hitting exactly the right spot. Paul cried out again, unable to stop himself. If the sex was good, he was loud. An apocalypse couldn’t stop that. Combine that with the headboard pounding against the wall, they were making more noise than was acceptable. 

“Shit,” Daryl said, pulling out and flipping Paul to his knees. “Bury your head in the pillows.”

Paul did as he was told – which was a good job as the position only increased the pleasure Daryl wrung from his body. “Daryl!”

“Christ, you’re loud,” he heard Daryl comment from behind him. It was said with amusement and enough affection that Paul understood it wasn’t an admonishment. He didn’t think he could handle that when his ass was stretched out for Daryl’s viewing.

His body stiffened when Daryl took his cock and start pumping, into rhythm wish his quick, but deep surges. Paul thought he was going to lose his mind. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel the rest of his body, only the sensitive nerves Daryl was expertly playing.

It took all of two minutes for him to cum all over Daryl’s hand and the bedspread, shouting as he did so, ass constricting around Daryl’s cock. Daryl groaned in response, the sound telling Paul he was close to losing it as well.

Fingertips bit into his hips.

Time stood still.

Daryl tightened his hold, grunted as he spilled deep inside Paul’s ass.

Fuck.

Paul’s knees buckled and they both collapsed onto the bed, Daryl’s delicious weight on top of him. They were both out of breath. Sweaty. Paul was a shaken, unsettled by how strong the connection was between them.

He winced slightly as Daryl pulled out, predicting he was going to be a little sore in the morning. He was thoroughly surprised when Daryl jumped out of bed and returned with a clothe and proceeding to wipe them both down.

“Thanks,” Paul muttered, heat tainting his cheeks. The men he had been with in the past didn’t do shit like that. Daryl seemed to have no boundaries which was simultaneously hot and nerve-wracking.

Why did he feel so weird? The sex had been amazing, better than that.

Why the fuck did he feel so shy he had the man’s cum in his ass?

A huge part of him wanted to make an excuse and leave the room, but he just couldn’t do it. It felt like there was a tether between them. So when Daryl pulled him close, tossed a blanket around, Paul was compliant.

What the fuck had just happened?

Huh. 


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments. Hope you like this next chapter!

Daryl woke early the next morning, the low sunlight streaming straight into his eyes. The next thing he noticed was that his arm was dead. He glanced across to the man sleeping peacefully on his limb, his long hair splayed out between them.

_Shit. _

Paul.

Memories of the previous night hit with a clarity that scared the shit of him. Paul’s impossibly tight ass clenching around his cock as he came, his own body burning up with a raw need that he had never felt before.

Paul’s hot as hell cries of pleasure. Slamming into his hot body, over and over again.

All of his nerves had vanished the moment Paul’s lips closed around his cock. He had been guided by an instinct, something other than his own fucked up head and they had melded seamlessly together as one.

Daryl crept out of bed, picking up his clothes as he silently moved across the room. Maybe he was being a coward, or maybe he was being considerate, letting the other man sleep. Fuck if he knew at this point. His body was sated, but his thoughts were chaotic. Unsettled.

He did a quick sweep of the house, checking the garage and their supplies, unsurprised that everything was still intact. He was a light sleeper and would have heard even the slightest commotion. Or maybe not considering how well they had fucked each other’s brains out.

Undoing the traps he had set around the house, he went outside and took care of business and strolled down to the small stream he had spotted the day before. The cool water felt good on his skin as he washed the remnants of last night away, all the while keeping an eye on his surroundings and the house.

He’d had sex with Paul and honestly, he didn’t know how to feel about it. One night was fine – more than fine – maybe a few times, he could handle. What he couldn’t handle was everyone knowing about them, talking about them. And it wasn’t about him being gay. He’d come to terms with that a long time ago.

He was private, always had been. Paul was open and probably wouldn’t give a shit about people gossiping about them. Him? It would only remind Daryl of all the crap he’d had to put up with his whole life, people whispering behind his back for one reason or another. Too poor. His family too criminal. Gay. Delinquent. Anger issues.

Nobody ever wanted to talk about that kind of shit to his face. They all drew their own conclusions about him, uncaring whether they were right or wrong. 

So hell no, he didn’t want people talking about him.

Sighing, he dried himself off and made his way back to the house, dispatching a walker with his crossbow on the way. He retrieved his bolt, eyes scanning the road for any others. None. He was almost disappointed, a part of him wanting a fight.

Which was fucked up.

Daryl let himself in the house, pulse beginning to thump when he heard movement from upstairs, telling him that Paul was awake. How did he handle this? His past hook-ups had been casual and he hadn’t been forced to interact with them again. Hilltop was a small community; that wasn’t an option.

Especially if they were going to fuck again.

Did Daryl want that?

Hell. Yes.

Problem was, he didn’t know how to do all the other shit that came with it. Like interact like a normal human-being the morning after. Words eluded him, just dried up in his throat in most social situations. This counted as a mega fucking social situation.

“Daryl? You down there?” Paul called from up the stairs, tone normal.

“Yeah,” he shouted.

A few minutes later, Paul appeared in the kitchen. Their eyes met and Daryl’s heart actually stuttered for a second, shocking him. Hair tied up in a bun, Paul was fucking gorgeous. His dark clothes fit him well, enhancing the lithe body Daryl had explored last night.

“You okay?” Paul asked him, coming into the room.

Daryl nodded.

“Sure?” he pressed, rummaging through their bags through a bottle of water. He took a sip, an odd smile of his face.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Are you gonna make this weird?”

Paul choked on his water. “Me? I’m good, man. We had amazing sex. I can’t wait to have some more.”

“About that…”

A quirk of the brow. “Are you going to break my heart and tell me you’re not going to give me anymore orgasms?”

Damn, the fucker was amusing. “No, but I don’t want other people knowin’ about us. It’s our business – everyone else will just complicate somethin’ we both know should be simple.”

Paul surprised him by saying, “I agree.”

“You do?”

He chuckled. “What, you thought I was going to go and brag about it to someone back home? I get along with everyone at Hilltop, but I’m only close to a few people. I’ve never been the type to give my friends a play by play of my sex life.” Daryl must have looked unconvinced because he continued, “I know you think I don’t stop talking, but that’s only in comparison to you. Ask around, I’m a quiet guy and whatever is between us, stays between us.”

Daryl’s relief was palpable. “Okay.”

Paul stepped a little closer. “Okay, as in okay we’re going to have sex again?”

“Yeah,” he answered, clasping Paul’s t-shirt in his hand, bringing him closer. Paul’s lips descended on his, instantly reigniting the white-hot spark from last night. Christ, the man could kiss. His lips so sensual that Daryl’s was dry-humping him before he even realised he was doing it.

“Daryl,” Paul moaned against his lips, “As much as I want a repeat of last night, we should get going. We still have one more place to hit up.”

With great reluctance, Daryl let go, trailing his hands down Paul’s abs. “You’re right.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he said, pressing a final kiss onto Daryl’s lips before breaking away completely. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Daryl took a breath, attempting to control his half-hard cock that had a mind of its own. “No, just washed up down at the stream.”

“Is it cold?”

“It’s October, what do you think?”

Paul made a sound of distress that Daryl maybe would have thought was adorable if he were that kind of man. “Shit, I’m just going to have to get over my aversion to freezing cold water.”

“Yup,” Daryl agreed. He got accustomed to it a long time ago, his dad always missing payments to the utility companies. Most of the baths as he took as a child were in the creek close to his run-down home. “I can come keep an eye on you.”

Paul narrowed his eyes, an inner light shining from them. “Daryl Dixon, are you flirting with me?”

Daryl shrugged, trying to conceal his own smile. “Just tryin’ to help out a fellow survivor. Wouldn’t want a walker to get the best of you whilst you’re washin’ yourself.”

Total bullshit. He just wanted to get his eyes on that body again, double check that it had been as hot as he imagined. All angles and hardened muscles. The dark hair trailing down towards his cock.

“I’ve got no objections, but I’m pretty sure I’ll jump on your dick if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Daryl asked, enjoying the conversation. It wasn’t everyday he could relax and flirt with a guy he respected.

Eye lids heavy, Paul answered. “Like you want to eat me up.”

“Get out of here before I do,” Daryl grated, rapidly losing his grip on his willpower. Paul moved at the sound of his voice. “And don’t forget your knives!” he called after him.

Half an hour later they were on the road again. Daryl was reluctant to leave the house behind, afraid that things would change between them once they got back to their mission. Locating and retrieving much needed supplies. He had to keep reminding himself that they were out to do a job because every time he looked at Paul, his resolve wavered.

Would it be so bad to take a couple of hours for themselves?

After the war with the Saviours, surviving every thing they had, would it be wrong to hole up for a few days and enjoy what each other was offering?

As much as he wanted to say fuck it and just do it, that wasn’t the kind of guy he was anymore. People were relying on him and he wouldn’t let them down. He had been let down his whole life so he knew how much it fucking sucked.

Paul began singing lightly as he drove, drawing Daryl’s attention. He had a good voice, Daryl thought. Better than his own that was for sure.

“Are you going to tell me to stop singing?” Paul asked, obviously feeling Daryl’s eyes on him.

“No,” he said softly.

“Do you like it?”

Always pushing his luck. “Better than listening to nothing.”

“Well if you waited for me, I would have brought some CDs along.”

“Next time,” Daryl said without really thinking.

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time. Can’t imagine we’re gonna be able to get up to much at Hilltop without anyone realising when you’re making all that racket.”

Paul’s cheeks reddened, giving Daryl the reaction, he was hoping for. “Pretty sure you loved it.”

_I did. _

_Really fucking loved it. _

A sign caught Daryl’s eye before he could respond. “We’re here.”

Their mark was a factory, out in the middle of nowhere. One of the members of Hilltop had informed Maggie about the place a few months back, thought it might be untouched because of its remote location. If it was, they had hit the jackpot because it supplied canned goods to a bunch of places in the state.

Daryl scanned the area as Paul drove the van closer to the gates. “There’s a chain. I’m gonna jump out and get the cutters.”

A minute later, the chain was on the ground and Daryl was pushing the gates open. Fuck, he hated going in places like this. Inside, there would no light, too many places for walkers to hide and only two of them.

Paul parked the van as close to the building as he could, reversing in so they could make a hasty exit if needed. Daryl retrieved his crossbow from the front seat, watching as Paul checked to make sure his knives were in his belt.

Daryl met his eyes. “We go in, take a look around. Chances are the place is going to be crawling with walkers and if it is, we come back with more people.”

“We’re experienced, we can take a whole lot out on our own,” Paul reminded him.

“No,” Daryl shut him down. “Not worth risking our lives over when we have dozens of people who could help us clear this place.”

Over the years, he had learnt to be cautious, curbing his impulsive tendencies. People died. People had died because they had taken a needless risk.

Paul shook his head. “I’ve been to places like this by myself and scored big before.”

“Then you’re a fucking idiot, and Hilltop has been too reckless with your life,” Daryl snapped, unsure why the conversation was stoking his temper. “There’s no point in arguing about this when we haven’t even been in there yet. Stop being a pain in my ass.”

“So you can be a pain in mine?” Paul smirked, transporting Daryl to the overwhelming moment his cock had breached Paul’s ass, the slight wince on his face.

“Are you sore?” he asked, thrilled by the prospect. He wanted the fucker to feel it all day after the sass he was giving him right now.

Paul’s face flushed again. “Not having this conversation before we go into that building.”

“You started it,” Daryl chuckled. Turning the tables of Paul was becoming his favourites pastime. He sobered, “Stay close to me.”

Paul rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut as they made their way around the building, checking entry points. There were a few walkers roaming around the perimeter who Daryl assumed were employees. His assumption was probably right considering they found an employee side door that swinging in the wind.

Light on his feet, Daryl held up his crossbow as they crossed the threshold with Paul right behind him. He had been right about the lack of light getting into the building, they were essentially blind until their eyes become used to the darkness. Their flashlights were useless in such a huge place.

They had walked about a hundred feet before Daryl heard the familiar sounds of the dead. He halted, pointing his flashlight in front of him. “Fuck,” he whispered.

He couldn’t count the number of walkers he saw – all he knew was that there were a lot. One wrong move and they would be coming for him and Paul. He turned to draw Paul’s attention to the dead, only to find that he was no longer on his ass.

Stomach bottoming out, he searched the immediate space with wild eyes, pulse only steadying when his glimpse Paul a couple of metres his right, carefully attempting to undo a crate. Daryl sped to his side. “What the fuck are you doing? This place is crawling with walkers. We need to get out of here.”

“Daryl, even one of these crates will keep up alive for weeks,” he shot back. Somehow the idiot had managed to pry the top off one and hundreds of cans of food were lined neatly.

“Doesn’t matter. We got no way of getting that shit out of here without drawing their attention.” The crate would be too heavy for them to carry with the weight of the cans. “Too dangerous.”

“Too much of an opportunity to pass up,” Paul counted, features hardening. “We can clear the building if we do it right.”

“No.”

Paul swore under his breath. “Why? Give me one good reason why. Because I’ve seen you on runs before and you’ve always taken the risk. Do you not trust me to have your back?”

Did he? Daryl didn’t even know. He respected Paul’s skills, he knew he was an excellent fighter, but the sheer numbers they faced right now were overwhelming. Maybe if he had Rick or Carol with him…

“You fucking asshole,” Paul hissed, looking like he wanted to smack Daryl in the face. “So you can fuck me, but you don’t trust me in a combat situation?”

“We don’t have time for this –“

Paul shoved him out of the way. “Do what you want. I’m going to clear the building.”

Daryl grabbed his shoulder and yanked, but the other man managed to twist out of his grip. “Paul!”

In his haste to catch up with him, Daryl rushed forward, his foot getting caught up in some packaging. He kicked it off, sending it flying into a metal pole that landed on the floor with a loud crack. There was a moment of silence before the haggard groans of the dead advanced towards them.

“Fuck! Paul, outside now. We take them outside.”

Thankfully the little fucker followed his direction.

All they had to do now was take on a horde and live to tell the tale.

And getting the fucking food home.


	4. Too much, too fast

Paul spun around, barely dodging a row of gnarled teeth that lunged towards his arm. He kicked out, sending the walker flying backwards and taking another three down with him. He snuck a glance over to Daryl, unsurprised to find that he was holding his own.

He had faith in the other man’s skills.

Daryl’s earlier comments played through his mind in a constant rhythm, stealing his attention from the dire situation he had gotten himself into. He could be mad at the bastard later, right now he needed to concentrate or he’d end up being a meal for the dead. 

He had lost count of how many he had killed at this point, his hands spasming painfully from the tight grip he had on the knives. Block, stab, repeat. Block, stab, repeat.

Heart racing from adrenaline, he was keenly aware of how much danger they were currently in. Mostly as a result of his actions. No, he wasn’t going to accept full responsibility. If Daryl had trusted him, they could have come up with a better plan.

“We need to split up, find some higher ground,” he called across to Daryl, eyeing the side door they had escaped from. More walkers were spilling out and out in the open the way they were, it was only a matter of time before they became overwhelmed by the numbers.

Their eyes met for a split second, Daryl nodded and took off.

Paul forced his own legs to move, scanning the surrounding area to find a higher point of vantage or somewhere he could use as a choke point. There was nothing he could find, just the metal fence that ran around the whole perimeter.

_Shit. _

Deciding it was his only option, Paul sheathed his knives and ran up the fence, catching the top with both hands, barbed wire ripping into his exposed palms with excruciating sharpness. He clamped down the pain, pulling himself over the fence.

With the scent of his blood lingering in the air, the walkers dove into the fence, desperate to reach him. Ignoring the discomfort, he palmed his knife and began thrusting it into one walker after the next, watching them drop like flies in front of him.

The crowd thinned as he continued to wield his knife. When the last one dropped to the floor, heaped on the rest, Paul took off, determined to find Daryl now that the numbers were more manageable.

It took him five minutes to reach their van. What he didn’t expect was to find Daryl on top of it, sending a powerful kick into one of the three remaining walkers that were intent of ripping him to pieces. Paul snuck up on the one closest to him and dispatched it with ease.

Daryl took care of the other two and hopped down from the van.

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Daryl shoved him against the van, hand around his throat. 

“What the fuck was that?” Daryl snapped, nostrils flaring. “You could have gotten us both killed.”

Paul’s protests died on his lips because now that the adrenaline was fading and his muscles began to burn, he had no excuses for his behaviour. He was confident, but he was rarely reckless that way. Rarely ever got rattled into making a huge fucking mistake like that.

Daryl’s lack of trust in him had been like a punch to the gut and he had just reacted without thought. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Daryl shot back, letting Paul go. He slumped down the vehicle, figuring he deserved more than a little manhandling. “Drive the van to entrance we just came from.”

With that order, he stomped off leaving Paul staring after him.

Exhaling, he jumped in the van and did as he was told, hesitant to provoke Daryl further. He could handle the anger, the problem was he didn’t like it. For the first time in years, he was ashamed of himself, ashamed that he’d allowed his petty feelings to put them both in danger for no reason other than his own ego.

And to have done it to a man he admired and respected, who he hoped he could have some kind of relationship with, had been crazy. What the hell had he been thinking?

Five hours later and Daryl still hadn’t spoken a word to him.

Whether he was pretending to be asleep or he actually was, Paul didn’t know. After they had finished up at the factory, Paul had sat in the driver’s seat. Daryl took the passenger’s seat without complaint and had stared at out the window until his eyes closed.

It was getting dark and Paul knew they should probably stop for the night. They were only a few hours out from Hilltop, but the cloud’s rolling in were heavy with rain. The roads were shit in the daylight with the lack of maintenance. In a storm? They were dangerous.

No one was coming to rescue them if they got into trouble.

An unexpected sharp turn had him pulling on the steering wheel, wincing when the movement aggravating his injured hands. He had wrapped them back at the factory and then put on some gloves so he could help Daryl transport some of the crates into their van.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daryl asked, his tone begrudging as if it physically hurt him to ask.

Paul sighed, keeping his eyes on the road. “Nothing.”

“You keep makin’ hissin’ sounds. Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing,” Paul dismissed. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want Daryl to know about his hands. Probably because he was too embarrassed to have been so fucking stupid. Going over the fence had been his only option at the time, but even small cuts could become easily infected in the conditions they lived in.

Meds were becoming increasingly difficult to find and they shouldn’t be wasted on him. Not when he had asked for the cuts by placing them in danger.

“Now you’re lyin’ to me as well?” Daryl lowered his feet to the floor from their position against the front of the can. “Pull over.”

“We’re still miles away from home,” he commented, resisting the urge to press his hand to his tired eyes.

“There’s a cabin a few miles up the road. We can hide the van and walk the rest of the way.”

Paul knew he was going to have to comply when a crack of thunder split through the air and rain began to fall from the sky. He followed Daryl’s instructions, cursing under his breath when the cold drops came down on his head when they hid the car with some foliage.

He retrieved his backpack from the van before following Daryl through the trail, impressed with his knowledge of the area. Daryl was in his element outside surrounded by nature and it would have been fascinating to watch if there wasn’t such a frosty atmosphere.

A ten-minute walk and a small cabin came into view. Looked a little worn down, but Paul would take anything to get out of the storm and his soaking wet clothing.

Daryl turned to face him, face tight with tension. “Get inside. I’m gonna do a sweep. Should be secure, but be careful goin’ in.” He didn’t stick around, just walked into the treeline out of sight.

Stubborn asshole.

Paul checked the interior of the cabin, pleased to find that he was alone and the cabin was in good shape. There was a rudimental bathroom, bedroom and a living area with a fireplace and stove. He stayed in worse accommodation before the disease broke.

The first thing he did was build a fire. Luckily there was some dry wood beside the fireplace. It took him a couple of attempts, but he soon got the fire going, the heat welcome. Next, he stripped down to his briefs which were blessedly dry, thanks to his long coat.

Sitting by the fire, he unwrapped his hands, his stomach turning at the wounds on each palm. After all he had seen, all he had done, the last couple of years, the sight of blood shouldn’t bother him, but it did. Not the dead’s blood, but that of the living. Too much had been split already and every drop was a waste.

The door to the cabin opened, blowing in a stream of cold air, sending goosebumps across his skin. Water dripped from Daryl’s hair as he shut the door, eyes flashing with an undistinguishable emotion when they landed on Paul.

They travelled to his hands and his jaw clenched. “You drove all the way here with your hands like that?”

Paul frowned at the anger radiating him. “I got us here, didn’t I?”

“Idiot,” Daryl barked, placing his crossbow on the small table. He crossed the distance between them, coming down on his knees in front of Paul, taking his hands. “You should have told me you were hurt. These look nasty.”

“They hurt,” Paul admitted softly, yearning for the closeness they had shared the previous night.

Daryl stroked his thumb over Paul’s. “You got a first aid kit in your bag?”

“Yes.”

Paul watched as Daryl located the small bag of medical supplies and returned to him with an unsure expression. “I ain’t any good at patching people up.”

“I can do it myself,” he said, a part of him needed to show Daryl that he was capable of taking care of himself.

Daryl’s eyebrow rose. “Yeah? Both of your hands are fucked.”

“I managed to help with those crates and drive here,” he reminded the other man.

Daryl scowled at him. “Because you’re a damn idiot.”

“Stop calling me that,” Paul bit out.

Taking out the antiseptic wipes, Daryl began to clean the wounds, leaving Paul hissing. “Stop bein’ one then. What the fuck were you doin’ back there, anyway?”

“What we came out here to do,” Paul responded glumly. “You’ve seen me fight before, you know what I’m capable of so why did you blow me off back there? I should have earned your trust by now.”

Daryl continued to focus on cleaning the wounds, refusing to meet his eye. “It’s nothin’ personal. I don’t trust easily. We haven’t been through somethin’ like that together before.”

Nothing personal? Right. “Fine.”

Finally Daryl looked up. “Why are you pissed at me? I would have wanted to go back whoever was with me.”

“Even Rick? Or Michonne? Carol?” Paul pressed, snatching his hand away when Daryl prodded a bit too deeply.

“That’s different. We’ve been through a lot of shit together.”

He had heard the stories and couldn’t really dispute that, but the whole situation still bothered him more than it should have. Close connections had always eluded him. As a child, he just seemed to annoy all of the other kids he met, teachers found him too much of a smart-ass. As an adult, that hadn’t really changed.

No one understood him, or he wasn’t worth the effort of having to try. Whatever the reason, he just couldn’t form close relationships with people no matter how hard he tried. Some part of him though that Daryl was different, that he was drawn to Paul the same way that Paul was drawn to him.

He remained quiet whilst Daryl gently wrapped his hands giving him time to realise that he was being irrational. Daryl didn’t owe him a thing; they’d had sex. They were friends. Neither of those things required the level of trust running into a building full of walkers did.

“Done,” Daryl broke the silence between them.

Paul inspected his work. “Thanks.” 

“You want somethin’ to eat?”

God, Daryl’s moods were difficult to follow. Five hours of silence and now they back to normal? “I’m good. Just tired.”

Daryl frowned at him, rising. “You should eat.”

“I said I’m good.” He just wanted to go to sleep. The day had taken it’s toll on him, emotionally and physically. They didn’t have any pain medication so he was stuck with his hands shooting fire down his nerves every time he moved. “Do you mind if I crash on the bed for a few hours?”

“Go ahead,” Daryl said, though it looked as though he wanted to say more.

Paul headed for the bedroom, and spread out on the small bed, mood low. Lower than it had been for a long time.

Sleep could solve a lot of problems so he let himself fall into it.

Daryl eyed the bedroom, just about able to make out Paul’s shape in the low lighting and his soft snores over the crackling of the fire. He tossed the soiled medical supplies into the fire, scowling at the image of the man’s wrecked hands that refused to leave his head.

Why hadn’t he said anything?

Not a fucking world. Daryl had barked orders at him at the factory. Fetch this. Carry that. Hurry the fuck up and Paul hadn’t complained once.

Those brown eyes of his when Daryl had avoided the question about trusting him. He shouldn’t feel guilty for telling the truth. Should didn’t mean shit when he was finding the emotion hard to shake off.

They had agreed to sex, but it was crystal clear that it was already more complicated than that. He’d been an idiot to think otherwise and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to call it off. He had been thinking about it on the drive, considering just blurting out the words.

And he couldn’t. They wouldn’t leave his mouth which only added to his confusion.

In the last twenty-four hours, he had gone through a hundred different emotions. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t the guy whose feathers ruffled because of a few altercations.

A small cry from the bedroom echoed through the cabin. Daryl rushed into the room, worried they had missed a walker. He found Paul sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You okay?” Daryl asked, concern colouring his words.

Paul swallowed. “Yeah, I think I just leant on my hand in my sleep.”

Walking over to the bed, Daryl perched on the edging, holding out his hands. Paul’s softer ones slid into his face up. “No fresh blood. They’re gonna be a bitch to heal.”

“I know. Like you said I was an idiot.”

Daryl didn’t like the self-deprecation in his voice. “But you were right about us bein’ able to take em’.”

Paul’s hands slid from his. “Now you trust me even less.”

“No,” Daryl denied his claim too quickly. Corrected himself. “I don’t know.”

A pained expression crossed over Paul’s face. “I don’t think I can do this. I thought I could keep sex separate, but I can’t. The way I acted today? Should have happened. Wouldn’t have happened if I we never slept together.”

A savage disappointment filled Daryl’s body. It was for the best, he knew that. But it sucked ass. Today had been a clusterfuck and as two of the most experienced members of Hilltop, they would be expected to work together in the future. “If that’s what you want.”

Paul shook his head. “Not really, but …”

“Yeah,” Daryl finished, knowing exactly how he felt. Another lifetime they could have had a lot of fun together.

“But,” Paul continued slowly, “we have tonight.”

Daryl’s eyes slammed to Paul’s, his heartbeat picking up. “Tonight?”

His next words whispered against Daryl’s lips. “If you want tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to normal.”

“Your hands…”

Paul’s mouth brushed against his. “I’ll be careful. I just want you inside me. One last time.”

They could have this. Nothing was stopping them and Daryl would probably kill anyone who tried to get between them in that moment. His cock was already half-hard. Just the thought of Paul’s tight ass would have him rigid in seconds and pre-cum leaking.

No, he couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

Placing his hand on Paul’s chest, he pushed him down onto the bed.

If they only had one night, he was going to make sure they made the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, this isn't the end for them. Got lots more planned, but a few hurdles have to be overcome!
> 
> Also, sorry for the shit editing :/


	5. Tyr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little carried away during the first half of his chapter.

Sliding his hands over Paul’s narrow hips, Daryl freed his cock, mouth watering at the way it laid out before him, begging for attention. Meeting Paul’s eye, he lowered his mouth, sucking on the tip. Paul groaned, the sound tearing from his lips.

“I love your lips around my cock.”

Daryl loved performing the act, relishing in the way in felt so natural between them. Taking as much of him as he could, Paul’s cock hit the back of his throat, setting off his gag reflex. He’d always been shit at deepthroat, but he hoped his willingness to try was enough to please his man.

Using his own spit to lubricate Paul’s puckered hole, he worked a finger inside of him.

“More,” his lover demanded.

Such a greedy prick.

But Daryl gave him what he wanted, stretching him with another finger and scissoring to make sure he was fully prepared to take his dick. Paul’s hips moved beneath him, shamelessly fucking himself with Daryl’s fingers and lodging his cock deeper into Daryl’s throat.

It was hot as fuck to witness, Paul’s lack of inhibitions sending blood straight down to his own cock. Releasing Paul’s cock, he murmured, “You like that?”

Paul’s response was quick. Breathy. “I like anything you do to me.”

“My fingers in your ass?” he asked, searching for Paul’s spot.

A loud cry told him that he had found it. “Yes!”

“Just my fingers?” He licked a path down Paul’s shaft.

“Need you cock. Fuck,” he cursed. Daryl’s head flew up at the pained shout, eyes narrowing when he saw Paul’s injured hands curling into the blanket. He withdrew his fingers. “Do that again and you won’t get my cock.”

Paul released his grip on the blanket, eyes on fire, legs open wide. “Daryl…”

“Be careful with your hands,” he warned, deadly serious about his threat.

“I will. Please…”

Blood pounding inside Daryl’s ear, Paul’s pleading an aphrodisiac. He always loved taking control of his sexual partners, but Paul’s eagerness was something else. So fucking sweet. He pulled back, skimming his fingers along the smooth skin of Paul’s stomach.

So many things he wanted to do.

Their time together was ticking down.

Daryl spread Paul’s legs further, giving him room to get nudge his shoulders into the tight space. He ran his tongue over Paul’s balls, suckling and nipping as he went, sending ripples through Paul’s entire body.

With slow, deliberate movements he moved his attention to Paul’s sensitive hole.

“Fuck! Fuck – you’re – fuck!”

Smiling against his flesh, Daryl continued his sensual assault. He could have spent hours eliciting moans from Paul, but his own need was an inferno he was rapidly losing control over.

When he was satisfied that Paul was ready for him, Daryl rose above him. “You got anymore lube?” He thought that Paul could take him without it, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Paul’s wild eyes found his. “Jeans.”

“Why you got an endless supply of lube in your jean pockets?” Daryl asked, tearing himself away from the other man and retrieving the small packet from Paul’s clothing he had left in a heap in the living room. He stripped out the rest of his clothes.

“Do I really need to answer that?” Paul laughed, hand reaching to take his own cock.

Daryl growled low in his throat. “Watch your fuckin’ hands.”

“Then hurry the fuck up! My cock is on fire and my ass is aching for you.”

_Jesus Christ. _He settled back between Paul’s legs, smearing the clear substance all over his cock and over Paul’s ass. He fisted his cock, lining the head with Paul’s entrance, teasing. “If I see you move your hands, my cock is gonna be out of that ass so fast and you’ll finish me off with that smart mouth.

Paul swallowed, his expression torn, as if he wasn’t sure whether Daryl was being serious or not. After a few seconds, he nodded. “Give me that cock.”

His words sent a flash of lightening down Daryl’s spine. He entered Paul with one long thrust, filling him. His hands bit into Paul’s thighs as the man’s ass clenched around his cock. “So fuckin’ good.”

Nothing was going to stop him fucking Paul. If a herd of walkers burst through the door right now, he would let them take chunks out of him if he could die feeling such undiluted pleasure. He lifted Paul so that he was rested against Daryl’s bent knees, giving him better access.

“Harder,” Paul cried out.

Daryl repeatedly slammed into him, giving himself over to the unsated beast inside of him, allowing Paul’s loud moans to guide him. Pre-cum gathered at the top of Paul’s cock, catching his attention. Hands still slick from the lube, he jerked Paul’s cock, his bucking body satisfying him like nothing else.

“So good, so good, so good,” Paul chanted, almost mindlessly. “Too fucking much.”

“Not enough until I say so,” Daryl grunted, biting his lip when Paul’s ass squeezed around him. How the fuck was he going to give this up? The thought sent him spiralling, aggravating his harsh thrusts further, driving Paul wild beneath him.

Without the use of his hands to anchor him, Paul was helpless beneath him. Helpless to brace himself against Daryl’s rough fucking. He had to take it and take it he did.

Overtaken by primal need, words tumbled from Daryl’s mouth. “Who’s cock fucks you so good?”

“Yours!”

Daryl pulled most of the way out before ramming back inside. “Gonna fuck you so hard you’re not gonna forget it.”

“I won’t,” Paul sobbed.

“This ass is mine.” What the fuck? They had just agreed this was there last time – Paul’s ass wasn’t his to claim.

His confusion deepened when Paul shouted, “Yes! I’m going to come!” he bellowed a second later, his cock impossibly hard in Daryl’s hand. A part of him wanted to take his hand away, punish the bastard for disobeying his orders back at the factory, but his own cock wouldn’t allow it.

He needed to feel it.

Ropes of cum erupted from Paul’s cock, landing in every direction thanks to Daryl’s unrelenting pumping. Paul’s cries assaulted his ears in the best possible way. Taking his hand away from Paul’s softening cock, he bent over and licked up a stream of cum that hand handed close to Paul’s nipple.

Daryl couldn’t take it anymore. His balls were heavy and tight, the allure of Paul’s ass to tempting to steel himself against any longer. With his own low groan, he came deep inside Paul’s ass, the man milking him with those clenching muscles.

Drained, Daryl released his grip on Paul’s thigh and lowered his head to the other man’s chest. Paul’s racing heartbeat against his cheek as fingers ran across his scalp. The intimacy of the moment didn’t go unnoticed by him, the fact that he didn’t want to move, didn’t want their night together to end, wasn’t unnoticed.

His eyes landed on another spot of cum, this time located on Paul’s shoulder. “You made a mess.”

Paul’s chest rumbled beneath him. “Well you didn’t give me much choice. That was fucking hot.”

“You like me bossin’ you around?” Daryl inquired, reluctantly pushing himself off Paul and sliding from his inviting body.

“In bed, maybe,” Paul said, stretching out his legs, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They cleaned up the mess they had made the best they could. Daryl then slipped into the living room to hang their clothes up to dry by the fire, adding a couple of logs to keep it going. The sound of rain tapping on the roof and howling winds told him the storm was still going strong.

Legs still shaky, Daryl walked back into the bedroom where Paul laid on his side, glorious body on display. Daryl wished he had a smoke, anything to take the edge off the unfamiliar sensation scratching against his heart.

“You good?” he asked, concerned that he had been too rough. Paul had been into it, but still.

Long fingers glided across his thigh, a tired smile lighting up Paul’s face. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, but that was amazing. It never really been like that for me before.”

“No?”

“Never so intense.” He shook his head, pulling his hand away. Uncertainty flashes across his features. “Made me realise what we’ll be missing if we actually give this up.”

Hope blossomed as Daryl shuffled down the bed. “What are you sayin’?

“I don’t know. I wasn’t wrong before – today was a shit show and it was because we had sex. But…” Paul trailed off, obviously frustrated.

“So we get back to Hilltop, give it a few weeks and reassess. This,” he said, pointing between them, “could fade in time. We cool it for a bit and see if it’s still there. Maybe we’ll go back to the way we were or maybe we won’t.”

Paul was quiet for a moment, considering. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t know if it were a good idea or not, but it was less daunting that the thought of never being inside Paul again.

Leaning over, Paul pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. “Yes.”

Daryl returned the kiss and circled his arms around the man, inhaling his scent.

What a fucking day.

Daryl woke early again, his dead arm reminding him of the morning before. Paul was tucked against his body, the pair of them wrapped in a worn blanket that did little to stave off the cold air now that the fire had gone out.

He was just about to get of out bed when a tiny whimper prickled his ears. At first he thought it came from the sleeping man beside him, that he had knocked his hands in his sleep. It didn’t take him long to realise that the sound wasn’t coming from Paul.

Brow furrowed, he cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what the hell it was.

Leaving the bed, he entered the small living and dressed into his damp clothes quickly. He grabbed his crossbow and did a thorough sweep of the cabin, finding nothing out of place.

“Daryl?” Paul’s sleepy voice called from the bedroom.

He walked back to the bedroom. Paul was sitting up, brushing his hair away from his face. “I heard a noise?”

Paul frowned, rising from the bed, completely unperturbed by his nakedness. “What kind of noise? A walker?”

“Nah,” Daryl replied, squinting against the light. “Don’t think so. I’m gonna check around the cabin.”

“I’ll get dressed and meet you out there. Be careful,” he said, wincing slightly when he took a step.

“Sore?” Daryl asked, laughter in his voice.

“Fuck you,” Paul told him, though good naturedly.

Tearing his eyes away from Paul’s semi hard cock, he made his way through the cabin, fresh air slapping at his face when he opened the front door. The storm was gone, but had left behind a fuck load of water and brought down a few small branches. He didn’t think much damage would have been to the roads so he wasn’t too concerned about their trip back to Hilltop.

Daryl got his ass into gear, checking the perimeter of the cabin. Everything looked clear, but when he stepped back onto the deck he heard that damn noise again. Placing his crossbow on the floor, he went back down the step and got down on his hands and knees, certain the noise was coming from beneath the cabin.

He was about to put his hand into the dead space when Paul’s footsteps creaked above him. His voice sounded a second later, tense. “Why are you putting your hand into a dark hole? Anything could be down there.”

Ignoring him, Daryl stuck his hand into the hole, fingertips grabbing on wet fur. He pulled the creature out, surprised to find a tiny puppy staring back at him with terrified eyes. He wasn’t sure what type the breed was, but he looked to be some kind of shepard.

Paul fell to his knees. “A puppy? That is a puppy, right?”

“Looks like,” Daryl said, bringing the trembling baby to his chest. Fuck, he had always had a soft spot for dogs. To find one out here was crazy. He had seen a few over the last few months, but always from a distance. The species had learnt to be afraid of humans again.

“He’s adorable,” Paul murmured, stroking the small head with the tips of his fingers. “Wonder how he got here.”

Anything could have happened so he just shrugged.

“Do you think his mom is around?” Paul asked.

“Doubt it,” Daryl answered, feeling for the little guy who was snuggled against his chest. “We should probably look around and see if there are any more of them.” He handed the puppy over to Paul. “Go and wrap him in a blanket whilst I take another look around.”

Excitement bubbled in Paul’s eyes. “Are we taking him with us?”

Daryl snorted. “Would you leave him out here?”

“No. No, of course not. I always wanted a dog – never thought we’d find one out here.”

Enjoying the delight on Paul’s face, he said, “You want him, keep him.”

“You found him,” Paul protested, his words hollow. “Maybe we could share him?”

Daryl chuckled. “We had sex twice and you want us to adopt a kid together?”

For a second Paul’s eyes widened, then he joined in with Daryl’s laughter. “Puppies are hard work, it would be good to have someone to share the responsibility with.”

“Let’s just get him back to Hilltop first, then we can discuss custody agreements.” He stood up, wiping the worst of the mud from his clothes. Paul went back inside leaving Daryl make sure there were no others. There weren’t. Not that he could find anyway, so he hoped the rest were with their mom somewhere, safe.

Strolling back into the cabin, his heart stuttered a bit when he saw Paul kissing the tip of the puppy’s nose. He was now wrapped in a massive blanket and seemed calmer, but Daryl knew if the dog was going to survive, they needed to get him back to Hilltop and find him something to eat.

They packed up their shit and set out for the van which was parked where they left it. As soon as they got back on the road, he turned up the heating, glancing over at the puppy curled in Paul’s lap. Was it fuck up that he was jealous of the puppy in that moment?

Paul stroked the little guy. “I can’t believe he was out there. I feel so bad we didn’t find him before this morning.”

“We got him now.”

“What shall we call him?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. Dog?”

Paul stared at him. “Dog? No way. He deserves a proper name after all he’s been through.”

“Like what?” he asked, curious what Paul would consider a good name for a dog.

Paul peered down at the animal intently, as if the damn thing was going to whisper his own name. “Bernard.”

“Bernard?” Daryl repeated.

“Bernie for short.”

“No.”

“What’s wrong with Bernie?” Paul whined.

“No.”

Paul sighed. “Then what?”

“Something badass. Like Thor.”

“Unoriginal.”

“Tyr?” Another Norse God of war, lesser known.

Paul smiled. “I like Tyr. You know he was an upholder of law and justice. Maybe our Tyr can carry out a similar role.”

_Our Tyr. _Shit, he liked the sound of that a little too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the puppy is based on Dog from the show, but I can't deal with the name Dog so changed it. Couldn't resist the urge to include a dog in this fic - I really do like them more than most humans! haha.


	6. Hilltop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments so far, much appreciated. Spurring me on when I have a lapse in motivation!

Paul put the radio back in his bag after contacting Hilltop to give them the heads up that they would be arriving in the next thirty minutes. It had only been two days since they had left, but it felt an eternity. When he had set off with Daryl, he had hoped they could start a sexual relationship. What he hadn’t bargained for was the intimate connection which had instantly snapped into place at the first touch.

Last night had been intense. When he had suggested that they needed to stop, his intention had been true. They were both aware that what happened at the food factory the day before couldn’t happen again. But then Daryl had touched him, fucked him with such ferocity, scrambling his brain further.

Tyr wriggled in his lap, demanding his attention. Paul couldn’t get over how cute the puppy was. One look into his eyes and Paul’s heart had been taken from his chest. Raising the little guy with Daryl would be weird – no doubt commented on by the community – but suggesting that they share him, just felt right.

“He’s gonna have you wrapped around his finger,” Daryl said, fondly gazing over at them. So different from the wariness that he shown when they had set out for this trip.

“I don’t think there’s much use in denying that. You’re going to have to be the strict one.”

Daryl’s lips quirked. “Think I’ve shown I have the skills for that.”

“Yes, you certainly have,” Paul agreed. His arousal had been off the charts last night when Daryl has lost control. The filthy things he had done and said. Did he know that Paul loved that shit? Time for a change in subject before the throbbing in his cock intensified. “I know yesterday didn’t go well, but I’m glad we got the extra food.”

“Yeah. Need to arrange to go back and get the rest.”

They had blocked the entry points to the factory as much as they could in the hopes that it would prevent any walkers from gathering in the place. The van could only hold so many of the crates and they already had the supplies they had collected before hitting the factory up.

Building up their supplies was crucial. The war with the Saviours had been tough on all the communities and had taken precious time away from establishing the infrastructure they needed to survive long term. Hilltop already had a decent crop rotation, but with fighting the Saviours, man power had been lacking.

They drove for fifteen more minutes in comfortable silence, Paul’s attention more on the puppy than the road. His head flew to the right as a sharp ding sounded from the side of the van, followed by another. And another.

“Bullets,” Daryl spat, slamming his foot down on the gas.

Paul twisted in his seat, trying to get a look at the fuckers shooting at them. He couldn’t see anything through the dense tree lines either side of the road. They were blind, all they could do was drive on. If it were the renegade Saviours as if suspected, they wouldn’t follow them all the way back to Hilltop. Their numbers were too low.

“Shit,” Daryl muttered when the driver’s window shattered. Paul looked to him, horrified to see blood coating his upper arm.

“You’re hit!” The sight of Daryl’s blood turned his stomach, but there was nothing he could do. The wound was on the arm furthest away from him so he couldn’t even put a damn tourniquet on him.

Daryl spare him a quick glance. “A scratch. Just stay the fuck down.”

Paul bristled against the command, starting to think that Daryl truly believed he was useless. But in this situation, he really was. He had a gun, but without a target, he would just be wasting bullets that they couldn’t afford to lose so he got down, holding Tyr protectively in his arms.

Each tap against the van had Paul jumping out of his skin, sure that the bullet would be the one to crash into Daryl’s skull. He was hunched over, trying to make his muscled frame as small as possible whilst concentrating on the road.

It didn’t take long for the volley of bullets to fade. Relief coursed through him as he straightened in his seat, thankful for the lack of serious injury. He was getting sick and tired of getting shot at. There wasn't a lot he could do to defend himself or those he cared about against a bullet. 

“You okay?” Daryl asked, his gaze assessing every inch of Paul’s body. His concern was expected. Daryl’s protective instincts had been one of the first things that had drawn him to the man.

“Fine,” Paul replied, checking the pup over. “Tyr is fine too. Your arm needs looking at though.” It looked like a bullet had skimmed his skin, but the flow of blood worried him.

“It can wait until we get back to Hilltop. Don’t know how many of them there are out there.”

Paul wanted to argue, but he knew Daryl’s words made sense. “So they’re just waiting for us now?”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” Daryl’s tone was grave. “If they weren’t, then they knew we were comin’.”

“Shit,” he whispered, all the consequences of that statement hitting him at once. Number one being they could potentially have a traitor in their community. “But who would do that?”

“Some Saviours have settled at Hilltop.”

Paul didn’t want to consider it could be anyone else. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Could have been a coincidence.”

“Hope so.”

“We can’t make accusations when we have nothing to go on. If someone is working with the Saviours, it won’t be long before they try something like this again.”

“You’re right,” Daryl said, “But I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but we don’t have another choice. Everything is just starting to get back to normal, people are just starting to feel safe again. We tell Maggie our suspicions and no one else.” Getting the community riled up for no reason could have disastrous consequences. There had to be trust between them if they were going to find a way to thrive, instead of just survive.

“Yeah, okay. Shit, my arms stings like a fucker.”

Though Paul’s heart was still hammering inside his chest, the edge of fear yet to leave him completely, he tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Dick,” Daryl countered, a smile curving at his lips. “So how do you wanna play this when we get back? With us, I man.”

_I want your cock inside me the moment we’re alone. _

Paul dismissed his first thought. “We take a couple of weeks to ourselves,” he said, keeping his voice even. They needed some distance between them after the intensity of the last few days. His head told him that it was the right path to take. His body, however, was weeping at him to reconsider.

“So you don’t wanna talk to me?”

Paul frowned at him, absently stroking at Tyr’s soft fur. “I do. Just don’t give me that look you’re giving me now.”

“Which is what?”

“Like you’ve had your cock up my ass.”

Daryl chuckled, the gravelly sound sending the good kind of shivers down his spine. “I have.”

“Well if you don’t want people to know about us, you need to work on your poker face,” he stated, impatience coating his tone.

“You say that like I’m ashamed of what’s happened between us. I’m not – I just don’t want people gossipin’ about me. Had to deal with it my whole life.”

That Paul could understand. “Whatever the reason, you’re going to give us away if you look at me like that. Just pointing it out.”

“Noted,” Daryl shot back, jaw clenching.

Paul rolled his eyes at the tone. They were only a couple of miles out from Hilltop, the surrounding landscape more familiar to him than ever.

It wasn’t like he wanted to announce they’d had sex either, in a small community like Hilltop it would be a hot topic of conversation. He got it, he did. But he couldn’t help but think there was more to Daryl’s reasoning than that.

Not that it mattered when they had agreed to cool it down for a few weeks.

Shit, he needed to focus on the task at hand.

Ten minutes later, they were rolling through the gates of Hilltop, people coming out to greet them. He spotted Maggie right away, her bump seemingly more pronounced than when he had left. In a couple of the months the baby would be here. They would all be overjoyed by the birth of the child, but he knew it was going to be a difficult time for Maggie.

The man she had loved wouldn’t get to meet his child and nothing was going to make that better. Maggie thought seeing Negan dead could lessen the pain, but Paul wasn’t as convinced as she seemed to be. He knew Daryl was of a similar mindset.

One thing they could all agree on that they weren’t handing him over to the Saviours still out there, no matter how many bullets shot their way.

Paul exited the vehicle, Tyr curled close to his chest, purposely avoiding Daryl’s eyes. It already felt like he had _‘I got fucked by Daryl Dixon’ _written across his forehead; he didn’t need to confirm it by locking eyes with the man and melting beneath his gaze.

He greeted friendly faces as he walked towards Maggie. Smiling at him, she gave him a quick hug and looked down quizzically at Tyr. “Who’s this?”

Paul pulled the blanket away from the puppy’s face. “We’ve named him Tyr. Cute, isn’t he?”

“Adorable,” she cooed as Daryl walked up beside him. She clocked the blood dripping down his arm immediately. Her expression changed in an instant. “That’s fresh. What happened?”

“Got shot at about ten miles back. We’re assuming it was the Saviours,” Paul answered, “We’ll give you details later. In private,” he added.

She nodded. “Okay. Did you have any other problems?”

Daryl responded before he could. “No. Van is full of food and the other shit you had on the list.”

Paul was thankful he hadn’t mentioned the lack of insanity he had disaplayed at the factory. Maggie looked behind them, then back to them. “I’ll ask a few people to help me unload. Daryl, you need to go to the infirmary. Jesus, go and find that poor animal some food.”

He startled at the name, having grown accustomed to Daryl using his real name over the last two days. Daryl grumbled as he walked off. Paul gave himself two seconds to watch him walk away before turning back to Maggie.

She touched his arm. “Everything okay with you two? I heard he tried to slip out without you before you left.”

“We’re both loners,” Paul said, brushing Daryl’s behaviour off. “We figured it out; it was fine.”

“Lots of conversation?” she teased.

Paul laughed a little. “More than you would think.” Did their dirty exchanges during sex count?

“Did he say anything about staying?”

Paul thought back on their earlier conversations. “I think he will. He’s not going back to Alexandria any time soon and whilst I think he likes the King, I doubt he could deal with him for more than a few hours at a time.”

The thought of Daryl leaving wasn’t a welcome one. He had grown used to seeing his face around Hilltop during the first rays of sunlight when few others were awake.

“Good,” Maggie said, a flash of contempt entering her eyes. The mention of Alexandria was all it took these days. “It’s been good having him here.”

Paul made a noise of agreement, unwilling to give anything more away. Maggie was excellent at reading people and if they continued the conversation about Daryl much longer, he was going to give something away.

He made arrangements to meet Maggie later on and then went in search of some food for Tyr. Paul didn’t know too much about puppies, but he thought he was passed the point of needing his mother’s milk. A couple of months ago, he had brought in a load of pet supplies when one of the kids had found a litter of cats nearby. He had grabbed indiscriminately at the store, unsure what they needed.

A short time later, he was back in his trailer with Tyr in one arm and puppy supplies in the other, the weight of it all aggravating his injured hands a little. Paul gave Tyr a generous amount of food, plonking him down on the floor, watching in adoration as he took a few steps towards the large bowl.

Satisfied that Tyr had all he needed for the moment, he stripped out of his coat. Being alone felt weird which only freaked him out even more. He was a loner, always had been. He enjoyed his own company, enjoyed hobbies that he could do alone, like reading. Sketching. So why the hell did he feel so unsettled?

It was ridiculous to think it was because of Daryl, but when he thought back, he realised that they had been joined at the hip for the last two days and it hadn’t bothered him at all. In fact, he’d found comfort in the other man’s presence.

A short rap on the door caused Tyr to whine and run to his feet. Scooping the fluffball up, Paul opened the door, shocked to find Daryl on the other side. A bandage was wrapped around his upper arm, Paul’s backpack in his other hand. “Thought you might want this.”

“Thanks.” He stepped back effectively inviting Daryl inside. He hesitated for a second before taking the two steps and walking into the living area.

“Nice place,” he said, no doubt taking in every detail. “You have it to yourself?”

He handed Tyr to Daryl, loving the aesthetic of a man like him tenderly holding the tiny pup. “Yeah. For now. I was sharing with Alex…” Fuck. Way to make a conversation awkward.

“He was your boyfriend?”

“No,” Paul said quickly. “Maybe. We were roommates first, started hooking up. Alex wanted a relationship and I didn’t. He moved out.”

A simple version of events, but the truth as Paul saw it. Alex hadn’t been satisfied with their arrangement and neither had he, but for entirely different reasons. Alex wanted more and Paul had known they weren’t truly compatible. His nights with Daryl had only highlighted that further.

Passion had been missing with Alex. No fireworks, barely even a spark. With Daryl it was the complete opposite. The flames threated to overwhelm him completely. During sex, he honestly doubted he would be able to recite his full name.

Daryl changed topics. “How’s Tyr settling in?”

“Oh, I only just got back. Took me some time to find some stuff for him. I think he likes it. Beats hiding out beneath a cabin.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, nuzzling Tyr’s head. “You need to go and get your hands checked out. I can watch him.”

Paul groaned. “Daryl, they’re fine…”

“No, they ain’t. Non-negotiable. Do you want them to get infected and fall off?”

Laughter welled up. “Doubt that’s going to happen.”

Daryl put Tyr back on the floor and took a step towards him, a formidable sight. “Could happen. You ain’t going to risk it though.”

“Isn’t that up to me?” he asked, a little breathless from the closeness of his presence.

Looping his finger around Paul’s waistband – a move he had used before if memory served – Daryl caused him to stumble into his hard body. “Want those hands in good workin’ order.”

They were supposed to be giving each other space. So many reasons –

Oh, fuck it. They had survived too much, lost too much to impose stupid rules upon themselves. If wanted to kiss Daryl, he was going to kiss Daryl. Their lips clashed together, Daryl’s tongue expertly sweeping inside, drawing a moan from Paul.

His hands slid over Daryl’s ribs and the taut muscles of his back. Daryl pulled back, only to dive in and sucked on the sensitive skin on Paul’s neck. He was going to leave a mark and Paul didn’t give a shit. He rubbed his cock against Daryl’s, aching for some kind of release.

Sanity tried to restore reason. “Daryl, someone could walk in here. They often do.” Not that he cared, but if Daryl was serious about wanting to keep their - fling? - on the down low, they needed to be more careful.

Daryl nipped at his lower lip, hand wandering to Paul’s ass. “Now I’ve had you, don’t think I can stay away.”

“We haven’t even been back an hour,” he pointed out, breath hitching when Daryl’s hand slipped into the back of his jeans. He wanted his cock so bad, but he wasn’t sure if his ass could handle another pounding like the one he’d had the night before.

“Too fuckin’ irresistible.”

“Hmmm,” Paul moaned. He pushed Daryl back onto the sofa, and straddled him. Daryl emitted heat like a furnace, his skin hot to touch, burning Paul up from the outside in.

“I’m not gonna fuck you. Said you were sore this morning.” A protest was on the tip of his tongue. Daryl continued, “Wanna fuck me?”

Paul stilled. He preferred to bottom, but on occasion he liked to top. His throbbing cock was fully on board with the plan. “You’d let me?”

“Yeah,” Daryl answered, lifting the hem of Paul’s top and bringing it over his head. “Your body is unreal.”

Paul warmed at the compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I have scars…”

He silenced Daryl with a kiss. “They’re apart of you.” Continued to kiss him. “Can’t believe you’re going to let me fuck you.” He had never imagined Daryl would want that.

“Why?” Daryl smiled, “Should I be worried?”

“No! I’m know how to use my cock.”

Daryl undid Paul’s fly. “Hope so.”

“I do,” he insisted, embarrassed that he had made Daryl question his skills.

Daryl’s hand was an inch from his cock when there was a bang on his door. They both jumped, their eyes meeting. Tyr began to whimper close to them. Paul leapt from Daryl, guiding him to the bathroom. “Hide in here. I’ll get rid of them.”

He closed the bathroom door, the look on Daryl’s face priceless. Paul didn’t know what else to do if he didn’t want someone to find him in Paul’s trailer. It was out of character for them both – anyone with a half a brain would put it together in an instant, his erection pretty fucking obvious.

Paul put his top back on, took a deep breath and opened the door, heart sinking when he saw who it was.

Alex.


	7. Impulsiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter - sorry, I did have more planned, but my brain doesn't seem to be working! Also, i probably won't be able to update as often as i have been because I'm back at work tomorrow (boo!)

_Hide in here. _

Paul’s words echoed through his mind, mocking him. _Your own fault, Dixon._ Problem was he was certain that being hidden by Paul felt a lot fucking worse than it would to be talked about by people he barely knew.

That was only confirmed when he heard Alex’s voice from behind the bathroom door. “Daryl said you were injured on your run. I thought I would drop by, save you the trip of coming to the infirmary. Hey! When did you get a puppy?”

Daryl resisted the urge to go out there and shove the annoying bastard against the wall. Touching his dog, no doubt trying to touch his man too. He had heard that Alex and Paul were an item a while back. Paul confirmed they had broken up, but it was obvious to anyone who looked that Alex wasn’t over him.

Daryl couldn’t blame him. One taste of Paul and he was hooked, but if the fucker thought he was going to worm his way back in, he had another thing coming.

Paul spoke next. “We found him this morning. Daryl and I are going to share custody.”

A small smile crept up on Daryl which was wiped away the second Alex opened mouth again. “Why would you share custody? I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think the guy likes you too much. I’ve seen him trying to avoid you on multiple occasions.”

_Can’t punch him. Can’t punch him. Can’t punch him. _

“We’re friends,” Paul stated, leaving no room for argument. “Let me see to Tyr and I’ll come across to the infirmary.”

“No need,” Alex responded quickly, “I’ve brought all the supplies. Tyr’s a weird name for a dog.”

Grinding his teeth together, Daryl let his head fall against the wall. Was Alex Paul’s usual type? Because if so, Daryl didn’t understand why Paul had pursued him. He was nothing like Alex and never would be.

“Okay, but make it quick. I’ve got a lot to do.”

“Sure,” Alex said easily.

_Can’t punch him. Can’t punch him. Can’t punch him. _

There was some silence. Daryl imagined they were siting down at the small table, Paul letting Alex take hold of his hands, unwrapping the bandages Daryl had put on last night. Why was this bothering him so much? Alex was healer, he should be happy the man was taking a look at Paul’s hands.

“So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Alex started, “About us.”

“Alex…” Paul drew out, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. From his tone, Daryl guessed it was something Alex had tried to bring up before.

“You know I never wanted us to break up.”

Paul interjected without hesitation, “We were never together.”

“How can you say that? We were living together!”

Paul hissed in pain, sending Daryl’s instincts into overdrive. If that fucker was hurting more than necessary because he didn’t like rejection… “Out of necessity,” Paul said more calmly than Daryl would have. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression we were together, but I think I’ve made myself clear.”

“We were good together,” Alex whined, grating on Daryl’s last nerve. “I miss you. I miss kissing you, I miss your dick –“

No! No way Daryl was listening to this. Fuck secrecy. Taking hold of the handle, he wrenched the door open. As he thought, the two men were sat at the table, Alex holding Paul’s hand in his. Tyr came running up to him so Daryl picked him up.

Alex’s face dropped. Whitened. Angered. He looked from Paul to Daryl, and back again. “You’re together.”

Paul looked to Daryl in confusion, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’

“None of your business,” Daryl shot back at Alex, “But I suggest you listen to him when he says he don’t wanna be with you.”

Alex looked to Paul, expression crestfallen. “I can’t believe you would choose him over me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt to make Paul feel bad.

Snatching his hands away from Alex, Paul stood up. “Nothing I do with him has anything to with you. We haven’t been together – had sex –,” he corrected himself, “in months. You don’t get to act like a betrayed lover.”

Alex threw his supplies in his bag. “You’re such an asshole.”

Paul sighed. “If that’s what you think, then fine.”

“You don’t even care, do you?” Alex hurled at Paul. Paul’s shoulders slumped, as if he thought the idiot had a point. That shit was not on. Paul was a good guy and didn’t deserve a guilt trip because there was no connection between the men.

Daryl stepped in front of Paul, his bad-ass image partially ruined by the puppy chewing on his finger. “Leave. Now. He ain’t anything more to say to you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going! Not sticking around for this humiliating shit,” Alex shouted, storming out of the trailer, leaving silence in his wake. Paul’s hand came down on his shoulder, spinning him around, eyes blazing with a heat he hadn’t expected.

“You do know Alex is one of the biggest gossips in town and you basically just declared they we’re fucking each other.”

Frowning at Paul’s harsh tone, he set Tyr on the floor. “I wasn’t gonna stand there and listen to him talkin’ about your cock.”

Paul’s face reddened with frustration. “You’re the one who wanted to keep this quiet!”

“Yeah, well, didn’t like you hidin’ me in the fuckin’ bathroom.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted. Also, I can fight my own battles. I don’t need you to dismiss an ex for me; I can do it myself,” Paul said with irritation.

“You were lettin’ him convince you that you were in the wrong.”

Paul threw his hands in the air. “You’re driving me crazy! Stay on one fucking track.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Daryl demanded. Why the hell was he getting it in the ear? He’d been doing a good thing and he had curbed his impulses and refrained from smashing his fist into Alex’s face. He should be getting points for that.

“Stop changing your mind. Decide if you want this out in the open, right now. No going back.”

“I already did when I opened that door,” Daryl reminded him. “I told you. I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing. For a second it looked like you were and I didn’t like it.”

Paul’s expression crumbled, stepping closer. “I’m not. I only hid you because that was your condition. You didn’t want everyone talking about it. Everyone knows I’m gay, Daryl. I’m not ashamed to share your bed either.”

Daryl pulled him in for a hug. “I know. I’m just sayin’ it felt like that and I would rather not feel like it again. So I can deal with people talkin’ about us if it means I don’t have to listen to Alex talk about your dick.”

“Told you I had skills,” Paul laughed, his arms tightening around Daryl.

Daryl pinched his ass. Hard. “Little fucker. I’m not thinking about you fuckin’ that weasel.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Paul sighed, “he’s not that bad. And you’re right, I was letting him make me feel guilty, but only because I haven’t. I slipped into something easy with him, enjoyed it whilst it lasted and ended it when it got to a stage I wasn’t comfortable with. Kind of a dick move.”

“Can we forget he exists?” Daryl begged. “If you were honest with him from the start, you ain’t got anythin’ to feel guilty for.”

“Let’s just go ahead and forget he exists for the night. He didn’t finish my hands though. Going to have to head over to the infirmary. Hopefully someone else will be around.”

“Shit. Want me to come with?”

Paul kissed him on the lips before pulling away. “No, I can go by myself. If Alex is there, I’ll just come back here and you can see them again. You need to stay here and hold up your end of the parental duties.”

Glancing down at Tyr, Daryl had an idea. “Might take him out.”

Paul made a face. “We don’t have a lead. Don’t you think he’ll run away?” he asked like a worried parent, making Daryl smile.

“Where’s he gonna run to? Hilltop is surrounded by walls. He needs to be trained properly if we want to take him out with us.”

“We’re not taking him out there with us!” He looked horrified by the idea. 

“Not yet,” Daryl appeased, watching Paul put his boots back on. “But one day. He’ll be a good alarm system.”

Paul looked pointedly at the pup who was lying on his back, trying to chew his own feet. “Yeah, sure. Alarm system.”

Daryl laughed, realising he had laughed more in the last day than he had in the last year. “He just needs trainin’.”

“Do you know how?” Paul asked, tying up his laces.

“Yeah. One thing we did have round the house when I was a kid was dogs. I trained them, kept them out the way of my dad. He was a mean asshole.”

Paul tipped his head up. “I’m sorry for making you think of him.”

Daryl shrugged it off, unaccustomed to someone taking his feelings into account. “It’s fine. I’ll train Tyr, you can spoil him.”

“I like the sound of that,” Paul said, rising to his full height. “I said I’d drop by to see Maggie, fill her in on what happened earlier. Do you want to be there?”

“Nah, I’ll catch her tomorrow. Do you want me here when you get back?” Daryl was eager to finish what they had started earlier, be the beneficiary of the skills Paul kept on bragging about and now Daryl had outed them, he could stay the night.

But he wasn’t sure if Paul wanted some peace after being with him for two days.

Paul’s fingers caressed his cheek, mouth taking Daryl’s again. The man liked to kiss. “That excited to feel me inside of you?”

“Yeah,” Daryl answered honestly. Pretences and bullshitting didn’t come naturally to him. “Haven’t done that for a long time.”

Paul’s delighted smile was so close to his. “No? So it’ll be like I’m taking your virginity?”

Daryl shoved him back, playfully. “You’re a dick.”

Paul laughed planting another kiss on him. “If you’re not here, I’m going to track you down and use my ninja skills to kidnap you and tie you to the bed.”

Arousal roared to life, grasping a tight grip around his cock. “Might just have to make you do that. Like to see you try.” A battle between them would be a close call and he would have a hell of a time trying to take the bastard down before surrendering, offering his ass as the prize.

“Kind of want to see how a fight between us would play out,” Paul revealed, his words echoing Daryl’s thoughts. “When my hands are fully healed.”

“You gonna be able to keep all your promises with those hands?”

Paul smirked at him. “If you were any other man, I’d make you wait for it until I was all healed up, but you’re too tempting.”

Had he ever been too tempting for anyone before? He doubted it. “I’m not gonna be happy if you injure yourself. We could wait.”

“You backing out?” Paul asked, meeting his eye, tone serious. Paul would let him back out without a question, he knew that.

Daryl shook his head. “No.”

Grinning at him, Paul got his ass up from the sofa. “So see you back here in a bit?”

“I’ll be waitin’.”

“And I’ll be quick,” Paul said as he exited the trailer, his smile infectious.

Damn, he was in trouble.


	8. Plans Delayed

By the time Paul got back to his trailer, he was exhausted.

It seemed like every single person at Hilltop stopped him for one reason or another. Wanting to know how the run had gone, asking when he was going out again. If he had seen any Saviours. The only topic that didn’t come up was the fact that he and Daryl were fucking. He was surprised that Alex had kept his mouth shut about them.

Listening to everyone had been a form of torture. Knowing he had Daryl waiting back at the trailer had made him uncharacteristically impatient, his eyes wandering to his home every time someone stopped him. At one point he had seen Daryl close by trying to teach Tyr how to play fetch, bending down to grab the ball, his taut ass on display.

_That_ had been the point Paul had decided that someone was fucking with him.

Now he knew it with all certainty.

Daryl was stretched out on the sofa, Tyr cuddled up on his chest, the pair snoring softly. The sight was so pure that it caused a physical reaction, sending a pang straight to his heart. He rubbed at it.

God, the man was so dangerous.

Watching him from a far had been bad enough. Time and time again, he had seen Daryl show kindness, even when his words were gruff. Having a front row seat, being on the receiving end of it , was just killing his resolve to keep things simple between them.

Tearing his eyes away, Paul went to the bathroom and washed his hands, catching his own reflection in the mirror. _What are you doing? You’re getting attached. _The world they lived in was like something conjured from a nightmare. Either one of them could die.

Daryl had only just recovered from a gunshot wound, for Christ’s sake.

He shook off the troubling thoughts and returned to the living room, a soft smile tugging at his lips as Daryl’s eyes blinked open. “You’re creepin’ me out,” he yawned, his movements waking Try. The puppy just padded over to a new spot on the sofa and curled up. “Why you starin’ at me? And what took you so long?”

Paul collapsed onto the sofa next to him. “Maggie wanted to discuss some more supply runs, then I bumped into Enid who looked at my hands. She’s coming on leaps and bounds in the infirmary.”

“I’m glad that she’s found something she wants to do,” Daryl said, reaching out to bring his arm around Paul’s shoulder. He stiffened, surprised, before settling into the embrace.

Why did it feel so good to have Daryl’s arms around him? “I was on my way back after that, but every person in Hilltop stopped to talk to me and I’m not fucking kidding.”

Daryl chuckled. “Wanted this ass, didn’t you?”

Paul lined their fingers, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

“You look tired. Think you need sleep more than you need sex tonight.”

“Probably,” Paul admitted, closing his eyes, allowing himself to give into the fatigue for a for moments. “It’s been a crazy couple of days.”

“You can say that again. I can get out of your way, let you get some rest.”

Everything inside Paul rebelled at the idea. “The bed’s big enough for us both. Besides, I think Try would like both of us to stay with him tonight.”

“You really usin’ the dog to get me in your bed?”

Pinching his bicep, Paul replied, “Don’t think you need an excuse to be in my bed, but to sweeten the deal, I think can at least manage a blowjob.”

Paul made good on that promise and received one in return for his efforts before falling into a deep sleep snuggled against Daryl’s solid body. Tyr followed them and made an attempt to get in between them. Daryl had muttered something, scooped him up and placed him down the end of the bed.

When Paul woke in the morning, he was immediately aware that he had sleep in too late. Daryl, unlike the other two times they had woken together, was still next to him, limps pinning Paul to the bed. He wasn’t complaining. He was pretty sure it was fulfilling a teenage fantasy of his.

He could have enjoyed the sensation all day, but he had a martial arts class to teach mid-morning. “Daryl, we need to get up.”

“Shut up,” Daryl groaned against his shoulder. Paul laughed, aware of how privileged he was that got to see this side to the man. He had always figured that Daryl would wake up alert, ready for anything.

To be a bit of a tease, he pressed his ass against Daryl’s cock. “I need to get up. You can stay here if you want.”

Daryl snaked an arm around his waist, nuzzling his neck. “You ain’t going anywhere.”

Fuck, he really didn’t want to.

So he allowed himself to be persuaded to stay in bed, gasping when Daryl entered. By the time he came, he needed a shower and a nap and not necessarily in that order. Hauling himself out of bed, he caught Daryl’s eye, amused to see the man looking so pleased with himself.

Paul shook his head. “If I’m late for class, Maggie will have my ass.”

Daryl leant over and slapped it. “Uh uhh. I’m the only one allowed in it.”

“I think you’re getting a little obsessed with my ass.”

Now that Daryl had put his ass on the table, he was fixated on the idea. Despite being disappointed that their plans had been delayed, he wanted to savour every moment of that experience and the time they had just didn’t allow for that.

He took a quick shower whilst Daryl accompanied the outside to do his business. They shared a quick breakfast together before he headed out for his class. In the end he was only a few minutes late. Not bad considering he’d woken up late and had morning sex.

Maintaining and improving fighting skills were essential. The war with the Saviours had taken more lives than they could afford, and the community that remained needed to be able to defend itself against the next threat. It helped, Paul thought, that experienced survivors like Maggie and Daryl had settled in Hilltop.

He was half way through his class when a commotion by the front gates made him glance over. A few seconds later the gate was opening. Rick and Michonne strolled through the gates.

Considering the tension that still existed between the couple and Maggie, whatever had brought them to Hilltop had to be important which didn’t bode well for the rest of them. Paul gave the order to take a break and headed over to the visitors, welcoming them with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, reaching them. “It’s good to see you.”

Rick returned his smile, though it was tight. “You too. How’s everything here?” he asked, eyes settling on the house.

“She’s okay,” Paul answered, knowing what the other man was asking. “Good days and bad days. I take it something has happened?”

Michonne nodded. He could tell by her expression he wasn’t going to like what she said. “Someone tried to take Negan last night.”

Shit. “Tried and failed, I assume?”

Michonne shifted on her feet. “Yes. It was one of the Saviours. He set a fire as a distraction. Some trigger-happy citizen killed him before we had the chance to interrogate him.”

“Everyone okay?” Paul asked, leading them up the house.

“Yeah,” Rick confirmed, “But it could have been a different story.”

“You know this is only going to rile her up again? And Daryl,” he added on the end. When Daryl heard the news, he was going to be livid. One of his arguments for killing Negan had been exactly this – the loyalist of the Saviours weren’t going to give up without a fight. Keeping Negan alive gave them a reason to keep fighting.

“What are supposed to do? Never mention the name Negan to her again? She wants to be a leader, she needs to be apart of these discussions,” Rick stated. Michonne gave him a look which Paul interpreted as ‘calm the fuck down’.

With the day starting out as it did, Paul had been foolish enough to believe that it was going to be a good one. Now he had to spend the next couple of hours mediating between Rick and Maggie.

Guiding them into the house, he considered just leaving them to discuss the issue between them. He wasn’t a leader. He had never wanted that job, and yet, he couldn’t deny that people looked to him for instruction. It baffled him on a daily basis. He had been a criminal before the outbreak – would they continue to follow him if they were privy to that knowledge?

Maggie opened the study door, cold expression plastered across her face.

“Hey,” Michonne greeted softly, entering the room first. Maggie gave her a tight nod, pretty much ignoring Rick. It was hard to watch. When he had first met them, the group had been closer than family, having gone through so much together. All that strife had only made them stronger. Now? They looked at each other with a layer of distrust he was unsure could ever be scraped away.

He was in the middle of closing the door when Daryl barged passed him. The waves of aggravation rolling from him were a stark contrast to the relaxed man he had left this morning. Paul shut the door, taking a deep breath.

By the time he turned around, the battle lines had already been drawn. Maggie and Daryl on one side of the room, Rick and Michonne on the other. Rick spoke first, giving Maggie and Daryl the same story Michonne had given him.

“That’s just fuckin’ great,” Daryl spat when Rick had finished, leaning against the heavy desk.

Rick stared him down. “You not going to ask how everyone is?”

Daryl’s eyes blazed. “Fuck you. Don’t try and make out I don’t care about everyone back there.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it. Everyone is fine by the way,” Rick taunted.

Michonne rested her hand on Rick’s arm. “Stop, the pair of you. The Saviours are a problem for both of our communities. We need to find a way to handle this situation before it gets out of control.” She caught him and Maggie sharing a look. “What?”

“Daryl and I went on a run, radioed in when we got in range. Fifteen minutes later, we were being shot out.”

Rick’s head snapped up. “The Saviours?”

Daryl answered, “Didn’t see who it was, but we got every reason to believe it was them.”

“They were waiting for you,” Rick assessed, mouth twisting. “Shit.”

“Someone here is feeding them information,” Michonne said, troubled.

“Maybe,” Maggie replied, taking a seat. “We don’t know anything for certain and we can’t go around accusing people with no proof.”

“The Saviours who settled here would be a good place to start,” Rick suggested sharply.

Paul interjected. “Most of them weren’t with Negan by choice, but by necessity. Most of them weren’t loyal to him.”

Daryl scowled at him. “A lot were.”

“All I’m saying is that I agree with Maggie. We’re finally getting to a place where people are starting to trust each other.”

“Which is great,” Michonne said, “but we need a plan going forward. They’ve killed – they’re still shooting at us. We need to deal with them.”

“Deal with them how?” Maggie shot back. “Hardly seems fair to kill them when you refuse to kill their leader. Or have you found the time to build a prison back at Alexandria?”

“Don’t do that,” Rick said, “don’t belittle what we’re trying to do. Not so long ago you would be agreeing with me.”

“That was before that bastard killed my husband right in front of me.”

Rick looked away, sighing. “Getting into this again isn’t going to change anything. Negan is in the cell and he’s going to stay there for a long time.”

“And resources we can’t afford to lose are going to be wasted on keeping him alive,” Maggie said. “What if the Saviour had succeeding last night? The fragile peace we have would be shattered. Negan wouldn’t just walk away.”

Michonne spoke this time. “We have someone on him at all times. No one is going to breaking him out. Look, I know you don’t agree with what we’re trying to do –

“He doesn’t deserve to live,” Daryl said fiercely.

“Why is that up to you, or me?” Rick demanded. “It can’t be like that anymore, not if want to evolve. Build something more. Be more.”

“I’m not listen’ to this shit anymore. You wanted Negan alive, you can deal with the consequences.” Daryl stormed out of the study. Following him wasn’t a choice, Paul’s body moved of its own accord, happy to leave the others to their arguing.

“Daryl, wait,” he called, following him outside.

Ignoring him, Daryl barrelled onwards, towards the trailer he crashed at with a few other men. He went inside without invitation. Daryl was throwing random shit into a bag.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stomach cramping. Surely he wouldn’t just up and leave?

“I need to get out of here.”

“Daryl –

“Don’t. I need to be alone. Get some space.”

“I think it’s the last thing you need right now,” Paul commented. He was wasting his breath, Daryl was a stubborn bastard. Paul could try and convince him to stay until he was blue in the face and it wouldn’t make a difference. “At least tell me when to expect you back?”

“I don’t answer to you,” he snapped, slipping the pack onto his shoulder, reaching for his crossbow. “Just look after the dog. I’ll be back.”

A humourless laugh escaped Paul’s mouth. “I’ll be back? That’s all I get?”

“Hell yeah, that’s all you get. We’re fuckin’, Paul. We ain’t in a relationship.” Daryl bumped passed him, leaving him stood there like an idiot. His words shouldn’t have hurt – they _were_ just fucking; a stipulation they had both agreed to.

Evidently, it didn’t matter what he should have felt. Daryl’s words were like needles to the skin, flesh wounds he knew would heal, but painful nonetheless. Out the corner of his eye he caught Daryl walked through the gates as he left the trailer.

It was so easy for Daryl to walk away. Paul envied him that; as much as he wanted to at times he couldn’t just take off for days at a time because he felt like it. People relied on him to get shit done; he couldn’t just leave. Daryl seemed to have no problem leaving on a whim.

Fuck, he felt like pulling his hair out.

Enid jogged over to him, Tyr wriggling in her arms. “Daryl asked me to watch him, but Alex just send Keira to come get me. He needs my help in the infirmary. Can I give this cutie back to you?”

Paul gave her a smile, taking the puppy. “Sure. Thanks for watching him.”

“No problem,” she said, already rushing off. “Anytime! See you later.”

He watched her go, smile fading on his lips. Stroking Tyr’s ear, he nuzzled the puppy’s neck. “Looks like its just you and me for a while, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with the chapter, but I just needed to get it done so sorry for the poor quality!


	9. Ambush

“Jesus?” Aaron waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

Paul turned to his friend, realising that he had zoned out again. They had been in the van for hours, on the way to the food warehouse he and Daryl had cleared the week before.

“I’m good,” he replied, wondering if Aaron would believe that load of bull. He wasn’t convinced by it himself.

Five days. Daryl had been gone for five days.

At first, he had been pissed. Hurt by Daryl’s parting words and angry at him for walking away. After a couple of days the anger had disappeared, worry taking it’s place. He had heard from Maggie that Daryl had been back at some point to get his bike, but that was the last anyone had seen of him.

Paul had been thinking about going out to look for him, but Maggie had roped him into working with Alexandria and The Kingdom. All the leaders had insisted that they return to the warehouse as soon as possible, the resource to valuable to leave unattended for longer than necessary.

So he, Aaron, Rick and Jerry and a few others were going to retrieve the rest of the food to share out amongst the communities. Maggie had told him she would send some people out to look for signs of Daryl whilst he was gone. She had given him a few questioning looks, no doubt asking herself why he was getting so worked up by Daryl’s absence.

“Why don’t I believe you? You’re quieter than usual.”

Resting his chin on his hand, he stared out the window. Unlucky for him he had been paired with the one person who had no problem asking awkward questions. They had grown close since he had started visiting Alexandria.

“Does your current mood have anything to do with Daryl?”

Paul whipped his head around, meeting Aaron’s knowing gaze. “Who told you?” Alex had obviously been blabbing to someone.

“No one told me anything. I’ve seen how you two look at each other. When Rick said you had been on a run together, I thought something could have happened. Then I find out that Daryl’s taken off and you’re moping around.”

“I’m not moping around,” Paul sighed. Another lie. He had been off all week and apparently, it hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“Are you keeping it quiet?” Aaron asked, eyes returning to the road. “News like that usually travels a lot faster.”

Folding his arms, Paul shifted in his seat. “It’s a casual arrangement. Daryl made that perfectly clear when he left Hilltop without a second thought.” That wasn’t fair, they had both agreed it would be casual. He tried again. “We weren’t planning on telling anyone, but Alex found out. I’m surprised he hadn’t told everyone yet.”

“He left because of Rick,” Aaron began, sympathy in his tone, “you know it had nothing to do with you.”

“I know, but Rick left Hilltop after a few hours. He could have made his point and been back by nightfall that day. I understand the need for some space, but…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“You’re worried about him?”

“Among other things,” Paul confirmed.

Aaron smiled. “How’s casual working out for you?”

_We can have sex without it getting complicated. I used to do it all the time._ Those had been his exact words to Daryl and they had been true, but the guys he’d had that arrangement with hadn’t been Daryl. He hadn’t experienced the same connection with those men as he had with Daryl. With Daryl everything was more intense, the passion heightened.

“I wanted it to be simple and I honestly thought it could be.”

“You like him,” Aaron stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world. It was anything but.

“I admired him from the first moment I met him and when I saw what you guys were trying to build at Alexandria, I knew right away that our communities were going to be allies. The first time I saw him, I knew I wanted him. Hoped he felt the same way, but I wasn’t counting on anything. He avoided me.”

“Because he wanted you too,” Aaron said.

“Yes, but I don’t think he wanted to admit it to himself.”

“Maybe he knew it would be impossible to keep some distance between the two of you if you started sleeping together. I don’t know a single person who hadn’t lost the majority of the people they love to this world – it can put you off wanting that happiness for yourself. It can’t be taken away from you if you never have it.”

Paul looked over to him. “What about you and Eric?”

“We fell in love before the outbreak and it’s never crossed my mind to let him go,” Aaron said with warmth. “People think that they’re protecting themselves by building walls, or closing off their heart. In my opinion they’re only harming themselves. What are we fighting for if we keep ourselves apart from everyone else?”

Is that what he had been doing? What he and Daryl were both doing?

“I do care about him,” Paul admitted, though he knew it wasn’t much of a shock at this point. “But even if I did talk to him about all of this, he’s shown me that he’s not dependable. Anything could have happened in the last five days, either to him or Hilltop. Alexandria. Do I want to commit myself to someone who had walk away without a backward glance?”

Aaron shrugged, “My guess is that he’s not as far away as you think. If we needed him, he’d be there. Always has been. The conflict with Rick is hitting him hard. They’ve been through a lot together and from what I understand this is the first time they’ve disagreed to such an extent, but you know what he’s like. He’s never going to admit that. Shit!” he shouted, slamming on the brakes, spinning the car into the opposite direction Rick’s had gone in.

Paul launched forwards, the seatbelt biting into his skin. “What the hell?” The car in front - Rick’s car - looked like it had blown a tire or four. It had veered off into a ditch on the side of the road. “You okay?” he asked Aaron, already unbuckling his belt.

“I’m fine. Go and check on Rick and the others,” he coughed, “go, I’m right behind you.”

Paul jumped into action, running to the car in front. He had been right, a tire had blown out. He reached the driver’s door just as Rick was shoving it open. There was a cut on his temple, trickling a steady flow of blood down his face.

“You okay?” Paul repeated.

Rick’s eyes were slightly unfocused as he straightened. “I’m good. I’m okay.”

“Jerry?” he called, pushing his head inside the vehicle. The other man was slumped in the passenger seat, knocked out cold. “Shit.” He turned back to Rick and Aaron who had jogged up to their position. “Jerry’s out.”

Rosita was already climbing out, along with Becca, who had volunteered herself for the mission. “You guy’s okay?” he asked them.

Rosita nodded. “Yeah, what happened?”

Rick spoke up, wiping the blood away from his face. “Rosita, Becca, keep your eyes open. I’m pretty sure someone put a spike strip on the road back there. The van intact?” He looked to Paul, Aaron. They nodded. “ Good. We to get out of here, get Jerry in the van. We’ll keep watch.”

Awareness prickled down the back of Paul’s neck. They were being watched. It was only a matter of time before he was going to be shot at again. He didn’t want to consider the ramifications of the ambush, the fact that it almost guaranteed that someone in Hilltop, hell, perhaps in the other communities were working with the contingent of Saviours who were determined to finish what Negan had started.

“Do we carry on or go back?” Aaron asked, making his way to Jerry’s door.

“Back,” Rick decided immediately. “It’s looking more and more like we have a rat. Who knows what else the Saviours could have been told. More of them could be waiting at the warehouse for us.”

He was right. Wherever the Saviours had gotten their intel from wouldn’t have stopped with their route, they would have revealed their destination two.

“Movement in the trees!” Rosita yelled. The familiar sounds of gunshots crunching into metal filled Paul’s eyes. They all dropped to the floor, Rosita firing off a few shots. Luckily the van was only a few metres away, giving them a decent amount of cover.

Paul could see Aaron shaking Jerry, trying to wake him. They were going to be in trouble if he didn’t wake up soon. It would be impossible to get him into the van and defend themselves against the attack.

Someone must have been looking down on them favourably because Jerry’s groaned, his eyes blinking open. Aaron drew his attention, mouthing at him to keep quiet and get out of the car. Jerry moved to fast, falling to the floor with a heavy thud. Paul knew moving would mean putting himself in the line of fire, but he couldn’t leave Aaron to help Jerry by himself. The sooner they got him to the van, the sooner they could all get the hell out of the ambush.

Crouching, he made his way around the car to where Aaron was helping Jerry to his feet, keeping his head down. Luckily, no bullets slammed into him. Or was it luck? He had a suspicion that the Saviours weren’t trying to kill them.

Probably thought they would be better leverage alive.

If they did succeed in capturing them, the Saviours would no doubt insist on a trade.

Aaron met his eyes as they both shoved their shoulders beneath Jerry’s arm. “We need to keep the van between us and the Saviours.”

Paul nodded, glancing over to the others. They were firing shots back, drawing the Saviour’s attention so they could get Jerry into the back of the van. Heart thumping inside his chest, he helped Jerry to the van. Thankfully, it was only a couple of metres. Aaron opened the doors and they pushed him in.

“Rick! He’s in,” Paul yelled, using the van as cover. “Let’s go!” Aaron ran to passenger’s side, waiting to slip into the driver’s seat as soon as they were all inside.

Thirty seconds later, Rick, Rosita and Becca were at his side. “Walkers are coming. Gunshots,” he said in explanation. Paul realised that the shots were now being fired in a different direction. Had the idiots really not considering that their plan would attract the dead?

Paul did a quick a quick assessment of the trio, noticing that Becca had been hit in the leg. Pale faced, she slumped against the van, trying to keep the weight off her leg. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Go,” he said to the others, “I’ll help her in.”

Rick and Rosita got into the back of the van, Rick giving Becca’s his hand. She cried out when she stepped up on the bed.

“Jesus, look out!” Rick’s eyes locked onto to something behind him.

Before he had time to react a strong hand clamped around Paul’s wrist, wrenching it back into a position which he knew from experience would be difficult to break free from unless he wanted a fractured arm. “Go!” The knife against his ribs only confirmed that he wasn’t getting out of the bastard’s grip with ease.

There wasn’t another second to waste. The loud gunshots were drawing the dead, the rest of the Saviours were almost at the van. If one of the dipshits actually managed to hit the tyres, none of them were going to survive. The fact that they were trying to capture them rather than kill them told Paul the Saviours weren’t likely to kill him right away if he allowed himself to be captured so the others could escape.

Rosita yanked Rick back inside the van as he tried to throw himself out to come to Paul’s aid. Paul shook his head. “Leave me!”

The fucker holding his arm twisted it, the extreme rotation popping his shoulder out of its socket. Paul cried out in agony, shaking his head at Rick. There was no time; they had to leave him. “Go, now!”

Eventually the van skidded off, leaving Paul surrounding by an incoming horde of walkers and more than a dozen Saviours crawling out of the trees like spiders. He didn’t waste time watching the van disappear, he knew they would do what they could to return with backup. His only job now was to keep himself alive.

The hold on his wrist loosened as the man dodged a walker, giving Paul an opportunity to free himself completely, but it came at a cost, the knife against his ribs slicing down into his skin through the thin long-sleeved tee he wore. The pain in his shoulder intensified as he lurched away from the Saviour with shaky legs, his injuries making his movements unsteady.

With the walkers and the Saviours concentrating on each other, he sprinted off into the tree line, ignoring the shrieks of anger behind him. With the numbers of walkers, the Saviours were going to occupied for the next few minutes and he had to make the most of them, no matter how much his shoulder was screaming out for relief.

He pushed ahead blindly, breath choppy. Where the hell was he? He tried to think back, remember the last landmark he had seen to give him some idea how far out he was from safety. There was nothing – he had been consumed with the conversation with Aaron about Daryl. He hadn’t been paying attention to the road at all.

Shit.

It had been a while since he had been in such dire straits without the hint of a plan. When Rick had crashed into the ditch, he had just reaction, leaving the van without his gun. All he had was the knife strapped to his waist. He didn’t even have his fucking coat.

Fuck.

_Calm down. Don’t panic. Do not panic. _

As many times as he repeated that mantra, it was impossible to prevent the well of dread from rising. Running through the woods with an immobile arm and a sizable knife wound on his ribs, without provisions or a clue where to go – frankly, he was fucked. If he ran into a group of walkers or the Saviours caught up with him, he was in no condition to fight.

All he could do was keep moving. He did his best to conceal his tracks, using tips Daryl had taught him along the way. He forced himself to keep going when his body was crying out at him to stop. He only allowed himself to rest when the run began to set.

His shoulder was dislocated, there was no doubt about it. The problem was he had no idea how to set it himself. It wasn’t as simple as they made out in the TV shows or movies he used to watch, but he could confirm that it was as painful as they made it seem. His arm was essentially useless in it’s current condition.

But if he tried to fix it, he could make it worse or do permanent damage. He slid down against a large tree trunk, holding his arm in place. He was pretty sure he had gotten himself more lost than he had originally been, now having no sense of direction. If the other came back for him, they would return to the road. Unless, they had Daryl with them, they weren’t going to be able to track him.

Resting his head against the rough bark, Paul gave himself one minute to fall apart. Feel the despair that wanted to consume him.

Daryl wasn’t going to be coming to his rescue. He’d left Hilltop before they had come up with the plan to go back to the warehouse. He didn’t know they were gone. He wouldn’t be there when the others returned.

And that made Paul unbearably miserable. He knew Daryl would feel guilty about being AWOL when he heard about what had happened.

He wasn’t going to see Daryl again. Surrounded by the encroaching darkness, the sounds of the night closing in on him and Daryl was the only thing he cared about. He should have followed Daryl that day, left with him. Showed him that he was going to be there for him. He doubted Daryl had been shown that kind of commitment before.

Perhaps if he understood that he could turn to Paul for support, he wouldn’t leave again.

His eyes drooped.

He was gone.

Where was he?

_Daryl, where are you?_


	10. Whatever It Takes

“Why the hell did you arrange it without me?” Daryl demanded. He been back at Hilltop for five minutes and the first words Maggie had spoken had annoyed him. “I’ve only been gone a couple of days.”

“Five days, Daryl. Five days,” she said, making him feel like shit. “We can’t have those kind of assets just sitting around for anyone to find.”

“You could have waited until I got back,” he grumbled. At that point he was more frustrated with himself – if he had been around, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.

“How was I suppose to know when that would be? You know I understand your anger at Rick, but disappearing for almost a week?” She shook her head. “You know what’s been going on with the Saviours, we need to stick together.”

“I needed space,” he said in explanation, though he knew it was lame as fuck. He had no excuse, falling back into an old habit that he hated. 

Maggie let out a choked laugh. “And you think I wouldn’t like some too? Everyone here relies on me. They rely on you too.”

“I’ve been leavin’ game outside the gates.”

He had stayed close by, hunting and leaving the meat for Hilltop. His way of apologising without having to say the words. He had been sure to drop it off when the guards were changing shift, reluctant to be dragged into conversation.

Maggie sighed, stepping close to him. “Do you really think that’s all people want from you? I understand how you’re feeling, I do, but I need you with me. I need you here. Present. I can’t do this by myself,” her voice cracked slightly. Daryl enveloped her in a hug, giving her the support she needed to fall apart for a moment.

He had really fucked up this time. “I’m sorry.”

She squeezed him before pulling back, wiping a stray tear. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for going in on you, but the thought of losing anyone else terrifies me. As for the warehouse, Jesus is familiar with it too. They’ll be okay.”

He knew they could take care of themselves, but he would feel better being with the group. Being with Paul. He had thought about the man a lot during the last week, irritated at himself for the way he had left things between them.

He had been an asshole.

“What did Paul do with the dog?” He was eager to see the little mutt.

Maggie gave him a knowing smile. “Do you want me to pretend I don’t know about the two of you?”

Heat filled his cheeks; he never been one to discuss his sex life with anyone. The fact that he saw Maggie as a sister only made it more embarrassing. “Alex been blabbin’?”

“He made a comment, I assumed the rest. Besides, Jesus had been brooding around all week. You two aren’t as dissimilar as you seem on the surface.” Shit, hurting him was the last thing Daryl had wanted to do.

“He pissed?” he asked, unable to curb the impulse. Paul was a better guy than him. How hard could it be to earn his forgiveness?

Maggie lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. He’s a hard man to read. He wanted to come look for you, but I needed him to go with the others to the warehouse. I would guess he’s been more worried than angry.”

“He wanted to look for me?” Daryl couldn’t quite believe that.

“Like I said, he was worried. So was I. Anything could have happened to you.”

“I was careful,” he said in defence, masking his guilt. “Wasn’t that far away either. I knew nothin’ was goin’ on back here. If it was, I would have come back.”

“I know,” Maggie said softly. “I know. Look, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you and it’s none of my business, but he’s fragile, Daryl. We all are right now, so if you’re not ready for anything serious, you need to make it clear.”

“We agreed that it’s not a relationship, but…” he trailed off, incapable of putting into words how he felt when he was close to Paul. Just being around him brought him comfort, the kind he never imagined he could experience.

Social situations, emotions - hell, everything – had always made him uncomfortable. Carol was the only other person who had come close to giving him that gift. She accepted him.

“But,” Maggie emphasised, “sometimes people have a way of burrowing themselves inside your heart and you’re powerless to stop it. Trying is more effort than it’s worth. You know, these last couple of months have been hell. The war with the Saviours, fighting with Rick and the others. Losing Glenn,” she whispered shakily. “Falling in love with him wasn’t a choice; it just happened. But once I realised what was happening, I did have a decision to make. I could have cut romantic ties with him in an attempted to protect myself or just keep going. I kept going because you have to grab happiness where you can find it. That hasn’t changed because the world has gone to shit; if anything, it’s more important that we do.” Daryl let her words sink in as smiled at him. “Just don’t close yourself off to possibilities.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’ with him,” he admitted. Did he want a relationship? He never really had one. Didn’t even know where to start. All he knew was that he had missed the annoying fucker. Finding out that he wasn’t here had been a kick in the balls.

“May I suggest talking to him when they get back? I know communicating isn’t your favourite thing to do, but you’re gonna have to.”

“Yeah, I know,” he exhaled on a deep breath. “Shit.”

“Enid has the puppy,” Maggie told him.

“Thanks, I’ll take him off her hands,” he turned to leave. Glanced back at her. “I won’t take off again and I wanna stay here permanently. It’s gonna take time to work shit out with Rick, but we need to find a way to do it.”

He left it at that. They all had a lot to think about on that front. Throwing away their friendship over Negan wasn’t happening, so they had to find a way they could all move on. He had to find a way to let go of the furious vortex swirling in his gut. Deep down he knew that killing Negan wasn’t going to get rid of the rage.

He had no fucking idea how to let it go.

Daryl left the house, heading towards the infirmary. It was early afternoon and if Enid kept her usual pattern she would be in there assisting whoever was on call. Her face lit up when she saw him walk in. “Hey, your back.” Tyr was snuggled in her arms as she sat reading some medical book. Shit, the pup had grown in the days he’d been gone, the realisation leaving him with an aching feeling.

What had Paul been doing whilst he had been away?

He wasn’t going down that road. 

“Yeah,” he said, taking the dog, surprised by just how much he had missed the little furball. His brown eyes seemed to recognise him, making Daryl smile. “He looks like he’s doin’ good.”

“There are no vets at Hilltop, but we think he’s a healthy little guy. He’s been eating, exercising. He hadn’t left Jesus’ side all week. He’s been sad ever since he left this morning, crying at the door.”

“What time did they head out?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking. He had with Maggie because he’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t deserve to know and yet, the words had left his mouth.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Enid answered him. “Early. They were going to try and make it back by nightfall.”

It could be done, he thought. Excitement and nerves flared simultaneously. Paul would be back tonight. They could talk, he would try and grovel a little and hopefully it would be enough to get him back into Paul’s good book. Daryl refocused his attention on the conversation. “Thanks for lookin’ after him.”

She smiled. “I always wanted a dog, but my parents would never let me get one. So anytime you need a sitter for him, I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“You know I’m not really a kid anymore, right?” she laughed a little. “I guess, technically, I am.”

“When you get to my age, everyone younger than twenty is a kid. See you later,” he said, walking out the infirmary doors. He should think himself lucky that Alex hadn’t been there. If he had to see his face, Daryl was sure he would lose it. The guy wouldn’t be able to stop himself from making some comment about his absence.

Daryl went to Paul’s trailer. He told himself it was because all of Tyr’s stuff was there, it would be easier for him to look after the dog there than haul all the shit over to his place. Nothing had changed in the days he’d been gone, though it looked like Tyr had been chewing on some of the furniture, the little shit.

Setting him down, Daryl took a quick shower. Being surrounded by Paul’s things, his scent, was proving more difficult than he thought it would be. What if he told him to fuck off? He had been an asshole. He’d disappeared for five fucking days without a word.

If their positions were reversed, he would be angry as hell.

In an attempt to take his mind off of Paul, he played with Tyr for an hour or so, teaching him a few tricks and lay the foundations for good habits. Paul must have been training him a little because he had sit down, as well as fetch.

He hadn’t had too many accidents inside either, confirming that his opinion that Tyr was the cleverest pup in the world was correct. Couldn’t be too wrong, he doubted many young animals would survive out there anymore.

“You’re a good boy,” he praised when Tyr brought the ball back to him and dropped in onto his feet. “You missin’ your dad?” Tyr sat, waiting for him to pick up the ball, tail wagging. “So am I.”

“Daryl! Get out here!” Maggie yelled, urgency dripping from every word. He ran out, eyes widening when he saw Rick walking towards them, using Rosita as a crutch. Aaron held Becca, a woman he recognised from Alexandria, in his arms, heading towards the infirmary.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, searching for Paul. Jerry stumbled from around the back of the van. Daryl sprinted towards him, helping him stand. “What happened?” he repeated.

Rick and Rosita stopped in front of Maggie, glancing back at him. “Ambush. Saviours knew where we were going. Our route. Everything.”

“Shit,” Maggie hissed, concern bleeding into her features, “are you okay?”

“Where’s Paul?” Daryl asked, dread uncurling in his stomach. He handed Jerry off onto a Hilltopper he recognised.

Rick’s expression tightened, highlighting the paleness of his face. “We left him.”

Rage exploded Daryl’s control into tiny fragments. He took a hold of Rick’s shirt, dragging him forward. “What did you just say?”

Rosita pushed at Daryl’s chest. “He said we left him. The Saviours ambushed us, blew the tyres of the car. We held them off long enough to get everyone in the van. A Saviour grabbed Jesus and he told us to go. There were too many of them and the firing drew a bunch of walkers. We didn’t have a choice. ”

“Fuck that,” Daryl spat, letting go of Rick. Panic was working its way into his system, making it difficult to think. Form a plan. “Where?”

“A couple of hours away, I can show you on a map,” Rick said, eyes unfocused. Looked like a concussion. “They were trying to capture us alive. I don’t think they’ll kill him right away.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Instead of sulking, he should have been out there with him. He would have been glued to Paul’s hip, preventing him from doing crazy shit like sacrificing himself.

He looked Maggie in the eye. “I’m leavin’ in five minutes.”

Spewing angry words would only waste time he didn’t have. Once he got Paul back, he and Rick would be having plenty of them, but until then he had more important shit to do.

She nodded. “I’ll round up some people. Rick, get your ass into the infirmary. Rosita, show us where it happened.”

They separated, Daryl having the presence of mind to drop Tyr back with Enid. He didn’t waste a second, gathering up supplies, filling up his bike with gas. He tried not to consider the possibility that Paul was already dead. It wasn’t over until he saw a body.

Straddling his bike, he glanced up to see Maggie approaching. “We’re going to need half an hour to get everything ready to go. Rosita circled the spot on the map.” She handed it to him. He recognised the road from their run to the warehouse the week before.

He folded it into his jacket pocket. “They can follow behind me, I’m leavin’ now.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, just be careful. Someone from one of our communities _is_ giving them information. Keep your eyes open, watch your back and find him. Please.”

“I will,” he promised, comprehending how much Paul meant to Maggie. To all of them.

“Daryl,” she said, “if they wanted members of our group alive, they’ll be looking to trade him for Negan.”

“I don’t give a shit what they want. I’m gettin’ Paul back, we can deal with them after.”

He was getting Paul back. Whatever it took, he was getting Paul back. Everything else, everyone else, could fuck off until Daryl’s laid eyes on him again.

They had unfinished business.


	11. Running Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, work is ruining my life!

Daryl slid to a halt, jumping from the bike the moment the wheels stropped turning. He swept his eyes over the area, taking in every details. Rick’s car lying in the ditch, walker bodies strewn around. Dead Saviours. Blood. Internal organs.

He had to look away. Gore had never bothered him much with following his brother around hunting at a young age, but there was every possibility that Paul was in mixed in with that mess. Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to look. Assess the area with his tracker’s eyes. 

There wasn’t a lot of light left, maybe half an hour if he was lucky.

What the hell had happened here?

There were tracks leading into the trees either side of the road. He knew from the others that the Saviours had come at them from the left hand side which was consistent with the location of the bodies. A small group of them must have fled back into the woods. Had they taken Paul with them?

His instincts were telling him that wasn’t what had happened. Paul had the skills and experience to escape if the Saviours if they have him the smallest of openings. He would have had no choice but to run into the tree line, away from the Saviours. Didn't make sense that the Saviours would split if there was no need for it. 

Daryl took a minute to steer his bike away from the road, concealing it with a few tree branches. Once that was done, he wasted no time in following the tracks he thought were Paul’s and a handful of Saviours who had followed him.

Searching the woods reminded him of the time he had become lost in them as a kid. Different state, different time, different circumstances but the feeling was the same. Undiluted fear. The stakes were too high. If Paul wasn't dead already, he would be soon if Daryl didn't do all he was good for and find him. 

He moved quickly, absorbing information with every step, searching for something. Anything which would give him a clue where to find Paul. He stamped the panic down, discarded the images of him lying in a pool of his own guts whilst walker’s feasted on him.

Lucky for him the Saviours who had trailed behind Paul had been in a hurry, heavy footed. uncaring of the tracks they were leaving. He was been in the woods for around ten minutes when his eyes locked onto a splattering of blood.

His stomach dropped. He told himself that it could belong to anyone, but he knew he was lying to himself. Paul was an experienced fighter, if he was at full strength, he would have been able to take a few out Saviours on his ass. The fact that they had followed him for so long was worrying him. 

“Where are you?” he whispered, praying that someone up there would give him a fucking break.

It wasn’t going to happen. Life had been fucking him since day one. Wasn’t going to stop any time soon. He pressed on, aware that he was losing the light. A noise up a head caught his attention.

Treading carefully, Daryl held his crossbow up in preparation. A group of three Saviours were stood in a circle, arguing. Daryl took the opportunity to eavesdrop, hoping that would confirm that Paul wasn’t their prisoner. He listened in for five minutes before they gave him what he was after.

“We need to get back. Don’t know where the fuck we are or where we’re going,” the tallest of three men said. “He’s gone.”

“No, he’s gotta be around here somewhere. How far can he get with a dislocated shoulder?”

“If he knows how to set it, as far as he fucking likes!”

“Shit,” another hissed. “We’ve been out here for hours. You got him with your knife, he could have bled out by now. He’s either gone or dead. Waste of time, the whole operation.”

Daryl stood, paralysed, their words no longer penetrating his ears. He didn’t know what to do. If what they said was true, Paul was out there somewhere, injured. Capturing one of the Saviours was there best chance of finding out who was giving them insider information, but there was no time, not when Paul was out there.

They didn’t know where Paul was; right now they were useless to him. Finding out who was betraying them wasn’t at the top of his priority list. As soon as he found Paul, made sure he was safe, he was going to make it his mission to work out who was in bed with the Saviours. Whoever it was had placed Paul in danger.

There was also the possibility that his back up had arrived and they would run into the Saviours. He had to trust that whoever was in the group who had volunteered for the job could take down three Saviours. 

Daryl hid himself in the undergrowth, relieved when the Saviours turned and headed back in the direction he had just come from. One less obstacle in his way. When they were out of sight, he rose and began moving again.

He drove forward, the tracks he had been following, disappearing with the night’s sky. He had to rely on his instincts, guess what Paul had been thinking which was hard enough to do at the best of the times. In these circumstances, it was impossible.

_Keep goin’. Don’t give up. You’re gonna find him. _

He kept repeating those nine words, clinging onto the last thread of hope like it actually meant something. Past experience told him it didn’t. He had been sure he could find Sophia alive and bring her back to Carol safely and they all knew how that had turned out.

Back in the woods when Negan had them surrounding, there had been a splinter of hope. Somehow they would get out of it; they had escaped life threatening situations before without any causalities. His hope had only been decimated when pieces of his friends’ brain matter had clung to his face.

Beth - another person he had failed. The list was long and the names weren't likely to stop being added onto it any time soon.

_Where the fuck are you, Paul?_

And why the hell was his mind taking him down those bleak rabbit holes? Time was running out. He needed to stop the pity party, he knew that, but it was so fucking hard when all the faces of the dead flashed in front of his eyes. 

_You can’t always win. People die and there’s nothin’ you can do about it. _

_Shut up! _

He needed to focus. Losing control of his thoughts, allowing the darkness to consume him, wasn’t going to help him find Paul. Even with his experience and knowledge, he knew that locating Paul in the pitch black was a tall fucking ask.

The only light he had come from the small torch he had brought with him. Now the Saviours had turned back, he turned it on, sweeping the ground in front of him for signs that Paul had passed through.

He found signs of a struggle.

A faint moaning prickled against his ears. Guided by the sound, Daryl moved swiftly, making as little noise as humanly possible. Torch between his teeth, he readied his crossbow, certain that he was about to come head to head with a walker.

Eyes in front of him, he tripped on a heavy object, righting himself at the last moment so he didn’t go crashing onto the ground. Lowering his weapon, he transferred the torch to his hand and shone the light over the floor.

A walker. A dead walker.

Daryl knelt down, inspecting the body as best he could with the pathetic amount of light he had. He reached out to touch the body and flung himself back when a moan escaped the lifeless carcass. No. No, something wasn’t right.

He rolled the body over with his foot, surprised as hell to find another beneath it. There was a moment of pure dread when his head processed what he was looking at.

_Paul. _

Pale, covered in the rotting innards of the walker who had been on top of him. His eyes were closed. If Daryl hadn’t heard that moaning, he would have thought him dead. He rushed to Paul’s side, checking his pulse with shaky hands.

Had he been bit? Had he killed the walker and purposely used the body to mask his scent? Or had he just killed the fucker and been too exhausted to move afterwards? Either way, there was no doubt that the dead walker had kept others away from Paul in his unconscious state.

“Paul,” he said with a hoarse voice, his throat tight with anguish. “Paul, please wake up.”

No response.

Knowing it was inevitable, Daryl sped through an inspection of his body, relieved to find that there were no visible bite marks. The Saviours had been right, the bastards. There was definitely something up with his shoulder and a deep knife wound on his ribs.

Daryl inhaled. He had to keep in together.

“Paul,” he repeated. He just needed the man to open his eyes for a second.

Another moan and this time, he saw it came from Paul’s lips. His head move to the side, restlessly. Daryl placed an arm under his head. “You’re alright. I’ve got you now.”

A broken whisper. “Daryl?”

“Yeah,” he responded, tears burning at the back of his eyes. “I’m here. I’m gonna get you back to Hilltop.”

“Hoped you would come.”

Daryl swallowed, staggered by Paul’s words. Even after the shit that had gone down between them at the beginning of the week, Paul hadn’t given up on him. Wanted him. He was going to prove that he was worthy of that affection. “Stay awake for a minute. You need to drink somethin’.”

He retrieved the canteen from his bag, placing it at Paul’s lips, encouraging him to drink a little. He managed a few drops before coughing and falling out of consciousness. Daryl took the blanket he had packed and wrapped it around Paul’s shoulders, the task a lot harder than it would have been if he had been awake.

Next, he exerted a lot of energy arranging Paul across his shoulder, bag draped across the other one. He was fucked if they ran into a group of walkers, but he couldn’t give a shit, his sole goal getting Paul to safety. Grabbing his crossbow, he retraced his steps, only becoming disorientated once of twice.

It turned out they were actually that far away from the road. Twenty minutes of walking, he could see the lights of a car. Paul was a lot heavier than he looked, muscle packed onto that limber frame of his.

Paul had been leading the Saviours in circles for the past few hours. Whether he had done it on purpose, or it had been a product of his injuries and the resulting delirium, Daryl didn’t know. He must have been out of it, the combination of his injuries, the elements and dehydration, causing him to collapse as soon as he had taken out the walker.

Thinking about how helpless Paul had his stomach in knots. Anything could have happened to him. If Daryl had stayed away from Hilltop for another day – fuck, another few hours – he could have been dead before Daryl found him.

Daryl approached the road with caution, aware that the car lights might not belong to friends. He took a minute to watch from the treeline, his racing heart calming a fraction when he spotted Rosita, Alex and a few others from Hilltop he recognised as able fighters.

“Over here,” he called.

The group rushed forward, Alex at the front, expression tight. “Is he alive?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, voice shaky. “Think he’s shoulder is dislocated. He’s got a knife wound on his ribs. He woke up for a minute, took some water before passing out again.”

Alex nodded, more focused than Daryl had seen him before. “Get him in the van, I’ll do what I can for him on the drive back to Hilltop. I brought supplies.”

Daryl did as Alex asked, turning his attention toward Rosita. “Did any Saviours come through here? There were three out there.”

“No,” she answered, helping him set Paul down on a thin mattress in the van. Christ, he was pale. Too pale. “Nick and Sawyer just got back from doing a sweep of the area. We were going to make sure it was secure before we tried to follow you.”

Where the hell had they gone?

Alex stepped up into the van, pushing Daryl out of the way. “I’ve got it from here.”

Daryl bristled at the dismissal. In any other situation he would have told the weasel to go fuck himself, but he possessed the knowledge to keep Paul alive for the next few hours. Daryl had done his part in locating him.

And when they got back to Hilltop he would be by Paul’s side until he was instructed otherwise from the man himself.

Taking once last look at Paul, he touched his leg, knowing that if he could he would transfer the own energy to Paul.

_Stay. Don’t leave me. _

Daryl still had no idea what they were to each other, but they deserved the chance to find out. He was shit scared of what that meant going forward. The chances of him finding that kind of happiness had always been slim, slashing with the abuse his dad had thrown at him. Meryl’s fucked up brand of sibling love.

With Paul he was willing to try and put that crap behind him. All he needed from Paul was for him to fight. Survive.

Daryl squeezed his leg before jumping out the van, taking his crossbow back from Rosita. She flicked a concerned glance towards him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll lead you guys back to Hilltop, make sure there’s no more fucking traps set by the Saviours.”

She nodded. “Be careful. I don’t like this.”

He headed towards his hidden bike. “Same. Keep your eyes open. Someone is sellin’ us out to those bastards, someone we should be able to trust.”

“You’re the only people I trust. Be safe,” she said before running off. 

She meant Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Carol. Family.

Somewhere along the way Paul had slid into the category for him. No one threatened his family. When he found out who was working with the Saviours, all bets were off.


	12. Cards on the Table

The first thing Paul noticed when he woke was the warmth.

His mind was muddled, confused, all the details weren’t quite in the right place, but he knew the warmth was a stark contrast to the icy coldness he had experienced before he had succumbed to the darkness.

“Paul?” A deep voice came from beside him.

Paul forced his eyelids open, drawn to the voice before he recognised who it belonged to. Daryl was sat beside his bed. If he was right, they were in the infirmary of Hilltop. He had no recollection of getting back home. Everything was out of focus.

“Hey,” Daryl said softly, his eyes lowered as they often were.

His presence was a like a soothing balm over a burn. Paul was surprised by the depth of the feeling. “Hey,” he croaked out, his throat dry.

“Do you want some water?” Daryl asked.

Paul nodded, grateful when Daryl helped him sit and take a few mouthfuls. “Thank you.”

Daryl placed the cup on the small bedside table. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Most of it,” Paul answered. His shoulder was throbbing, but the lack of sharpness told him that it had been reset. The wound on his ribs was tight and sore. In all honesty, he felt like shit. “Did everyone else get back okay?”

The longer he was awake, the more the sequence of events cemented in his mind. The ambush, getting grabbed by a Saviour, the blade slicing him open, running into the trees for cover. Cold. He had been so cold.

Daryl looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Yeah. Jerry and Rick both got a concussion. Becca’s leg will be fine.”

Relief coursed through him. “Good. What’s my recovery time?”

“Alex said you should be fine. He set your shoulder, stitched your knife wound. You were lucky.” Daryl bit into his lip, shaking his head. “Why the hell did you do it?”

The anger in his voice took Paul back. “I…I had to. There was no time.”

“You should have waited for me to come back.”

Paul frowned at him. “How was I supposed to know when you were going to come back?” He was reminded of his worry that something had happened to Daryl. His tone hardened as he thought back to the dark thoughts that had hounded him constantly in the last few days. “You could have been dead for all I knew.”

“I was around,” Daryl said dismissively, pissing him off. Typical Daryl Dixon.

“Evidently not close enough to know we were heading back to the warehouse,” Paul shot back. He sighed. “Thanks for finding me, Daryl, but if you’re going to be an asshole, I’m not in the mood.”

“That’s not..” Daryl shook his head again. “I’m not tryin’ to be. I was fuckin’ worried, Paul. And guilty because I should have been with you. Instead I was sulkin’ out there.” There was disgust on his face, the kind that was directed inwards. “I’m sorry. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

It was instinct to reject that in an instant. “No,” he said, finding Daryl’s hand, linking their fingers. The intimate contact was exactly what he needed. “Stay. I missed you.”

Daryl brought their intertwined hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of Paul’s hand. “Missed you too. When they came back without you, I almost lost my shit.”

“I knew I had the best shot at getting away. You know how good I am at slipping out of restraints and locked places,” he smiled, attempting to alleviate the serious mood.

“Don’t fuckin’ do anythin’ like that again,” Daryl growled, his breath hot on Paul’s hand. “I thought you were dead.”

Paul met his eyes, heart beating wildly at Daryl’s blatant display of affection. “That would have bothered you?”

“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” Daryl asked.

Time to put his cards on the table. “When you left you said –

“I know what I said,” Daryl snapped. “But I had a lot of time to think and I decided that we’re being idiots. There’s something between us. More than sex. I’m no chicken. I’m not gonna run from somethin’ just because it scares the shit out of me. We started somethin’ here. It’s not gonna go away and I don’t want it to.”

Paul was speechless. Before the warehouse job had gone to shit, he had assumed that he would return to Hilltop, Daryl would appear in a few weeks and pretend that they’ve never had sex.

“Are you just gonna sit there with your mouth hangin’ open?” Daryl taunted.

“What are you saying? You want a relationship?”

Daryl shrugged. “I don’t know, Paul. Maybe. I wanna keep fucking you, but I also wanna spend time with you. Eat together. Talk. Play with Tyr together. I like bein’ with you.”

“You do?” Paul asked lamely. No one had ever said that to him before. Sure, he’d had friends in the past who obviously liked his company. Hook-ups who enjoyed his body. There had been a few like Alex who had claimed they wanted more from him, but it had always felt false because Paul knew they only saw the side of him he wanted them to see.

Daryl, on the other hand, saw more than Paul was comfortable with.

But it made his declaration mean something.

“Yeah, I do. What do you want?” There was a hint of vulnerability, a part of Daryl that was waiting for rejection and it broke Paul’s heart.

“All the things you just said.” He squeezed Daryl’s hand. “But I can’t deal with you walking away whenever things get real, Daryl. I’ve had that my whole life and I need someone I can depend on.”

“I ain’t leaving like no more. All that shit was Rick was messin’ with me. I’m gonna find away to get over it. Maggie does too, cause we need to stay together. I was always gonna come back, Paul and I really wasn’t that far away. I was hunting nearby, dropping meat off by the gates.”

“No one said that was you.” It would have put his mind at ease to know that.

“Some prick obviously wanted to take credit for it. Doesn’t matter. I ain’t going anywhere, but you need to develop some self-preservation. You’re important to me. Remember that the next time you wanna play hero.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “I made a judgement call.”

“That ended with you covered in walker guts, half dead. I don’t wanna lose anyone else and if we do this and it turns into somethin’, I wanna know that you’ll do everythin’ you can to stay alive.”

His heart melted into a sappy puddle. “I get it. Same goes for you – I know exactly what you’re like so lets stop pretending I’m the only one who has those tendencies. You always put everyone before yourself. I admire that about you, however, I would require my boyfriend to place as much importance on his own life as he does everyone else’s.”

Daryl groaned. “I don’t like the word boyfriend.”

Paul chuckled, tension pouring out of him as he began to feel more like himself. “Why?”

“Because I’m a man and we ain’t friends. We’re more than that.”

“It’s just a word, Daryl,” Paul smiled, the echoes of residual fear from in his time in the woods slipping away from him.

“Think of another one,” he replied.

Paul was about to think of a witty comeback when Maggie strolled into the room with a relieved expression. “You’re awake. I’m glad you’re okay.” Her eyes landed on their linked hands, beaming.

“Thanks. I feel like crap, but I’m alive,” he said, inwardly satisfied that Daryl hadn’t snatched his hand away. Progress. “How are things here?”

Daryl scowled. “No idea who is workin’ with the Saviours. Best guess it to assume it’s someone who used to run with them, but can’t rule out that it’s not either.”

Maggie sighed, placing her hand on her round stomach. “Like I said before, we have to be careful.”

“Someone almost got him killed. I’m gonna find out who,” Daryl said with deadly intent.

Paul shot him a look. “Daryl…”

“What? I’m not gonna let this go. Any of you could have died out there.”

“Maggie is still right. Whoever is giving them information is going to be scrambling right now. Their plan failed. They have to know we’re on to them now.”

Maggie spoke, “I agree, but we do need speed this up. They’re getting bold. We can’t be afraid to leave Hilltop and I don’t want to have to sleep with one eye open.”

“Then what do we do?” Daryl asked, Paul getting distracted by that face of his and the headache forming at the back of his skull.

Maggie glanced at him. “Look, we don’t need to talk about this right now. I just wanted to check on you. When you’re on your feet, we’ll form a plan. Get some rest,” she said, patting his leg. “I’ll see you soon.”

She left, leaving them alone again. Daryl studied him. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a headache. Did Alex say when I can get out of here?” It probably made him a bad person, but he wished he had seen Daryl and Alex being forced to converse when he was out of it. He didn’t think there were two men with more differences.

“He told me to get him when you woke up.”

Paul lifted his brow, amused. “I’ve been awake for a while now.”

“He’s fuckin’ annoying.”

“But necessary if I want to get out of here anytime soon. I want to sleep in my own bed if I can.” The infirmary wasn’t his favourite place in Hilltop; he would recover quicker in his own home.

“I’ll go and get him if I have to.”

Paul kissed his hand. “The faster you go and get him, the faster you can come to bed with me.”

Daryl’s eyes lifted. “You want that?”

“Yes, I do. Is that okay with you?”

A small smile. “Yeah. Don’t wanna let you outta my sight for a bit.”

It was nice to have someone openly care about him. “Come here.”

Daryl leant over, placing a gentle hand on Paul’s cheek, capturing his lips. He fell into the kiss, closing his eyes, basking in the sensations it aroused.

“Missed that,” Daryl whispered against his lips.

Paul stole another kiss. “Me too. Now go and find Alex so we can go to bed.”

An hour later Daryl entered Paul’s trailer, following the man closely, ready to catch him if he fell. Much to Daryl’s frustration, Paul insisted on walking across to his trailer without any assistance. Daryl had forgotten how stubborn he could be.

They had decided to leave the puppy with Enid until the morning, reluctant to wake her at the late hour and Daryl didn’t want Tyr jumping all over Paul and tearing his stitches. They both showered, separately, Paul went first muttering about how awkward it would be to keep his stitches dry. In the end he opted to use the basin for a hand wash.

Daryl rushed through his shower, eager to get into bed. The feeling only intensified when he found Paul huddled under a mountain of blankets with sleepy eyes. The scene was inviting as hell. Daryl slipped into bed naked, unashamed of his body or his scares under Paul’s eye. The appreciation he saw in them filled him with quiet confidence.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Paul cuddled into his side, arm coming over his waist. Daryl’s fingers played with the silky strands of his hair. “How are you doin’?” he asked. Paul had been given permission to leave the infirmary with instructions for aftercare, but Daryl couldn’t rid himself of the concern.

If he had been hours – minutes later – Paul could be dead.

Alex had spent way too long fussing over Paul. Daryl had stood back, gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut. He was beginning to hate the guy, but he was grateful for the care he was giving Paul. Losing their doctor in the war with Saviours had been a blow to Hilltop and Alex had stepped up, Daryl could begrudgingly admit.

But if his touch had lingered on Paul for much longer, Daryl would have punched him in his smug mouth.

“I’m okay,” he answered. “Everything aches or actively hurts, but I’m alive. Thanks to you.”

“It was a team effort. You kept yourself alive long enough for me to find you. A lot of folks here wouldn’t have been able to do that. Now you need to rest. Get your strength back. Stay in bed for a couple of days.”

Paul’s head came up. “If you think for one minute, I’m staying cooped up in here for days on end –

“Calm down,” Daryl interrupted. “I thought you liked reading. Think of it as a vacation.”

Paul huffed out a breath, settling back down. “I do like reading, but not when I’m forced to do it. I’m supposed be training people how to fight, scouting.”

“Everyone will have to cope without you for a few days.” Everyone was going to cope without him for a few days; Daryl was going to make sure of it. Paul wasn’t rushing back to his duties and hindering his recovery.

He was silent for a moment. “What did you do whilst you were away?” He asked in a change of subject.

“Hunt mostly,” Daryl said, thinking back. “Sulked, like I said earlier, but only for the first few days. I needed space to think. I’m sorry for what I said to you when I was leavin’.”

“I get it,” Paul said, absently stroking his stomach. “And it was the truth.”

“But it wasn’t and we both knew it.”

“I’m over it, Daryl. A near death experience put things into perspective.”

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed. All of the petty bullshit and insecurities were insignificant. “Once you’re fully healed, I’m gonna head over to Alexandria. Talk to Rick and Michonne. I thought about it a lot whilst I was gone and today. They’re my family – Negan isn’t worth losing that over.”

Paul pressed a kiss to his chest. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“If you mend bridges with them, will you go back to Alexandria? I don’t expect you to stay here for me.” There was honesty in those words. When Daryl thought about it, he realised that Paul didn’t expect much from anyone. He was used to being self-reliant, just like Daryl.

Difference was Daryl had let people in over the last couple of years and he did expect things from those people. Outwardly Paul appeared the more social of the two of them, but he remained closed off from most people. It seemed like he and Maggie were the only ones he had allowed in to some extent.

“I’m stayin’ here,” he said softly. He had already made up his mind before their conversation back at the infirmary, but he would be lying if he claimed that his reasons for making Hilltop his home had nothing to do with Paul. He kept silent on that, not wanting to scare him off. “Alexandria, ain’t my home anymore, but I do wanna get to the point where I can go back there and spend time with my family.”

“Co-parenting a dog with that distance would be a little tricky,” Paul laughed.

Daryl smiled. “Think Enid will ask for shares if we keep leavin’ him with her.”

“True. We’ll just have to make an effort to stay closer.”

“We can for a while,” he said, thinking of the situation with the rogue Saviours. “You need to sleep, no more talkin’.” He could stay up with Paul all night and listen to what he had to say. He couldn’t claim he had that desire about a lot of people. Anybody, actually.

“You’re bossy,” Paul whined.

“Get used to it,” Daryl smirked. With those he cared about, he could be bossy. He had a feeling that the trait would present itself more frequently the more time he spent with Paul. The man was reckless; he needed someone to keep him in line.

Within minutes Paul was asleep, limbs still locking onto Daryl’s body, leaving him contented. He barely recognised the feeling, so used to being uncomfortable, to bracing himself for the next series of fuck ups in his life. If he was honest, he didn’t know how to be happy.

He had grown accustomed to struggling his way through life that he didn’t know just how to _be._ So this relaxed, hopeful joy that he experience in these quiet moments was both a blessing and a curse. He wanted so fucking badly to be happy for once in his life that he was terrified that he or circumstances were going to bring it crashing down around him.

Sighing, he played some more with Paul’s hair, the act calming him.


	13. Caring for Your Man

“Should you be carrying that?” Liam asked Paul, eyeing the storage box he stacked against the wall in the bedroom of Barrington House. Paul liked the guy, a former Saviour who had pledged his allegiance to Hilltop so he stifled his frustration. Daryl had been hovering for the last couple of days and his concern had spilled over to others in Hilltop.

A lot of the ex-Saviours were like Liam. Good men who had joined up with Negan because it gave them a chance at surviving. They stayed because they had feared leaving, afraid of what Negan would do if he caught them.

Paul gave the dark-haired man a short smile. “I’m fine.”

“If you rip your stitches, Daryl is going to kill me. I don’t need another reason for him to hate me.” He was right, Paul mused. Daryl was just waiting for a reason to pound on some Saviour face, but Paul had never been the kind of person to answer to anyone and Daryl’s overprotectiveness was suffocating him.

He knew his body’s limits better than Daryl did. Which is why he could admit to himself, and only himself, that he knew it would be weeks before he was back to full strength. His shoulder was giving him trouble and the wound on his ribs still healing.

“I can handle Daryl,” Paul said, leaving the room to grab another box. The physical work was gratifying, just what he needed after days spent in bed. Granted, the majority of that time had been spent with Daryl at his side so the forced ‘vacation’ hadn’t been so bad, but he was accustomed to being active.

A smile touched his lips as he thought back on their time together. They had spent a lot of time talking, learning about each other. Sharing meals, playing cards. Paul had even played the guitar for Daryl until his shoulder had protested too much. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to sit around like that, no plans or duties to take care of.

It had been good whilst it lasted, but he was eager to get back into the thick of it. Daryl, on the other hand, was adamant that he should take more time out to fully recover. Paul had been forced to sneak out early this morning, before Daryl woke, so he could leave the trailer without bother. He couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed Daryl’s excessive concern or was annoyed by it.

A little of both, he concluded.

He liked the feeling of someone caring for him, truly caring for him. It was foreign to him, having only himself to rely on for so long. So he wouldn’t allow himself to be irritating with Daryl for too long, but he did need some space from those watchful eyes.

It was like Daryl fully expected someone – the elusive betrayer - to walk up to Paul and slit his throat. He growled at anyone who came too close. It was ridiculous and adorable.

Paul steered his thoughts back to the current task, spending another hour or so moving storage boxes and going through supplies with Liam and a few others. By noon, he was starving, his body demanding fuel after being out of the commission for a few days.

He headed towards the make-shift dining tent, stomach growling as the scent of cooked meat filled his nostrils. A hand touched his shoulder as he set foot towards the lunch line. He spun around, lips softening when Daryl gave him a bowl.

How could someone so prickly be so sweet?

“Thank you,” he said, guilt rising. He had bailed on Daryl this morning and the man was still caring for him. “You want to eat together?”

Daryl nodded. “Sure, if you don’t wanna run away first.”

Because it was said with amusement, Paul laughed. “Sorry.” He gave Tyr a pat on the head, only marginally jealous that the puppy was obedient for Daryl when he wouldn’t even sit for Paul.

Daryl shrugged, guiding him to a table with two empty seats, Tyr following them. They sat down, Paul digging into his meal. He ate half of it before speaking again, glancing at Daryl. He got the feeling that he was over it, but he wanted to make sure. “I am sorry, you know. I needed to get back to being useful.”

“You’re allowed to have time to recover. I don’t want you gettin’ back to it so soon because you feel like you owe everyone here somethin’. You do more than enough for them.”

Paul took another spoonful, slowly, thinking back to his confession to Daryl the day they had first slept together. As a kid he had been a people pleaser, maybe that had never fully gone away – was that what he was doing? Getting back to work to make sure people would still like him, rely on him, ensuring that he still had a place at Hilltop?

Shit, he was.

Daryl touched his thigh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up shit memories, but I don’t want you to think like that.”

“I didn’t realise I was until just now.”

As hard as life could be at Hilltop, he did have a place. Everyone knew him, looked to him for guidance and some part of him enjoyed that because he had never had anything like that before the outbreak. He had been on the fringes of society, doing his own thing, living by his own code. He had never been apart of a community, let alone at the heart of one.

“Now you do,” Daryl said simply.

Paul tilted his head. “I think you’re good for me, Daryl Dixon.”

“We’re good for each other. You’ve got me eatin’ with everyone else.”

He looked around at the familiar faces. “True, but I kind of wish we were alone.”

“We’ve been alone since I got back,” Daryl pointed out, shovelling food into his mouth.

Paul lowered his voice. “As much I’ve enjoyed your company, I’ve missed your cock.” It had been frustrating. Daryl had shut down any kind of physical contact past kissing, unwilling to aggravate his injuries. Sweet, but unsatisfying.

Daryl studied him for a second, an uncharacteristic playfulness entering his eyes. “You sure you don’t need to rest this afternoon?”

Unable to resist him, Paul played along, edging his body closer to Daryl’s, food forgotten. “Now that you mention it, I might have overdone it this morning.”

“Can’t have that,” Daryl grinned. Anticipation rose in an instant, tightening Paul’s skin. Daryl took hold of his hand, leading him to trailer that had become as much Daryl’s as his over since the attack.

To anyone watching, it was obvious what their intention was. Paul couldn’t bring himself to care. What was the point in fighting to survive if they couldn’t take a few minutes to live in the moment?

They rushed into the trailer, an excited Tyr scrambling behind them. Daryl nudged Paul into the bedroom, shutting the door on the disappointed puppy. Paul suppressed a chuckle, making a mental note to give him extra attention later.

Paul’s attention swiftly narrowed in on Daryl, the proximity of their bodies casting a spell over him. Daryl stepping into Paul, crushing their lips together in a clash of scalding heat. Moaning into Daryl’s mouth, Paul rubbed up against him, trying to soothe the ache in his cock.

Within a minute or so, they were both naked, the cool air touching their skin. It was welcome, giving Paul a small measure of relief from the inferno that was building inside of him.

“On the bed,” Daryl whispered against his lips. Paul immediately complied, pretty sure he would so anything Daryl asked in that moment.

Lying back of the soft duvet, Paul took the time to drink in the sight of a nude Daryl Dixon. It was a sight worth savouring. From the firm muscles, the tip of his erect cock, there was no where Paul couldn’t wait to get his hands or mouth on. It felt like an age since they had last been together like this.

Daryl got onto the bed, straddling Paul’s hips, watching him with through his lashes. He took hold of both of their cocks, lazily stroking like he had all the time in the world.

“Should have realised this was the way to get you to stay in bed without bitchin’,” Daryl said whilst tormenting him with his hands.

Paul’s breath hitched when his hand squeezed. “You’ve been the one reluctant to touch me.”

Daryl let go of his cock, his fingers tracing the healing wound on Paul’s ribs. “Not sure it’s the best idea now, but I can’t wait any longer.”

“I’ll be fine,” Paul assured him, making a promise to himself to stop getting injured. It was fucking with his sex life. “But keep it tame.”

Daryl frowned at him. “Paul, if you’re not up to it –

“I am. I’m being honest with you,” he said. Admitting his weakened state was a big step for him. He wanted honesty between them, but he didn’t want Daryl to use the words against him, ripping away the possibility of the physical connection between them which his body craved. “Don’t punish me for that. I could have claimed that I’m back to full strength because I want you to fuck me hard, but I didn’t do that because I know that would hurt you.”

Daryl _would _be devastated if he accidently caused him pain so he had to truthful about his body’s limits right now.

Daryl’s jaw tightened. “You drive me crazy, do you know that? You play dirty, waitin’ to tell me you ain’t one hundred percent until we’re almost passed the point of no return.”

Sliding his hands up Daryl’s thighs, he answered. “We’re supposed to drive each other crazy. Besides, I trust you. I want you, I know my own limits. Trust me,” he implored. He did have a tendency to be reckless, however, he also took his own well-being seriously. He had to because there was no one else doing it for him.

“Fine,” Daryl acquiesced, coming down on his elbows, hoovering above him. “But if we tear your stiches, I ain’t bein’ there when you explain to Alex how you did it.”

Paul lifted his head, lapping his tongue over Daryl’s nipple. “You think that will put me off?”

“Nah, you want my cock too much,” Daryl chuckled.

“I do,” Paul said without an ounce of shame. The sensation of Daryl’s cock resting between his cheeks was delicious.

Daryl kissed him, closing the distance between them. “How do you want me?”

A thousand images flashed through Paul’s mind with a thousand different Daryl could take him, but he knew Daryl was asking which way was going to have the least impact on his healing body. “Can I ride you?”

Desire flared in Daryl’s dark blue eyes; it was quickly hidden beneath concern. “Are you sure that’s not gonna hurt you?”

Paul ran his hands through his lover’s silky strands. “It won’t. I can set the pace.”

“You have an answer for everythin’,” Daryl muttered, though it didn’t stop him from rolling away from Paul onto his pack. Excitement hummed through Paul’s body as he reached across for the lube, drizzled some onto Daryl’s dick and his own, before sliding some across his entrance, Daryl’s eyes never leaving his. “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” Daryl whispered, circling his hand around Paul’s dick.

Positioning himself over Daryl, he sunk down, moaning as his body accepted the invasion. He took all of Daryl’s length, the fullness satisfying him like nothing else. Christ, he had missed this. And that scared him because it had been just over a week since they’d had sex. A blink of an eye in a lifetime.

“Ahhhh!” The cry escaped from his lips, Daryl’s cock nudging his prostate. He angled his hips so that the motion would be repeated. “Fuck!”

As always Daryl was a lot less vocal than he was, but there was a strain on his expression that told Paul he was fighting his instincts to take control. Paul increased his speed, his earlier lingering pain forgotten. He was chasing the high.

Their bodies slapped together in an erotic rhythm; an instinctual dance. His attempts at staying quiet were useless. They evaporated as soon as Daryl’s rough hands clamped over his hips, his thrusts in perfect unison with Paul’s.

“Love watchin’ you from this angle,” Daryl ground out.

Paul’s breath came out choppy. “Love feeling you beneath me.” He could touch Daryl with ease, run his fingers along those muscles. Hold him close. Kiss him when the urge rose. So many benefits to being on top.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Daryl said, lifting Paul’s kips from the bed, “Your ass is too tight. Feels too good.”

Paul squeezed around him, drawing a low groan that had his own cock almost bursting. “Make me come and then you can come in my ass.”

One of Daryl’s hand wrapped around his cock, the grip firm. Still slick from the lube he had squirted, Daryl had no trouble working him. With Daryl inside of him, surrounding him, stroking him, he had no willpower. Thick ropes of cum shot from his cock with a sharp shout, landing on Daryl’s stomach, a few drops on his chest.

A few seconds later, still trapped in his own haze of pleasure, Paul felt Daryl stiffen inside of him, finding his own release. Paul collapsed on top of him, giving no thought to the mess they had created between them. He just wanted to feel Daryl’s skin against him.

They laid like that for a while, Daryl stroking Paul’s spine as their heartbeats calmed. It was perfect, even if a little sticky.

“We need to shower,” Daryl’s voice rumbled from beneath him.

Paul buried his head into Daryl’s shoulder. “I know you’re right, but I really don’t want to leave this bed?” He was tired and he had gotten carried away, exerting his body more than necessary. _Worth it. _

He fell deeper under Daryl’s spell when he said, “You shower first, I’ll clean up in here and then you can get back into bed. I’ll shower, let Tyr out and then we can all chill out in here for the rest of the afternoon.”

“That sounds like heaven,” Paul said with worship. “Are you trying to get an award for best boyfriend?” he asked without thinking. Shit, were they boyfriends? All of his muscles seized up. Sure, they had joked about it back at the infirmary, but joking about it and using the term post-sex were two different things.

“Hey,” Daryl said, concern lacing his voice, evidently sensing the change in body language. “What’s up?”

Paul sat up, awkwardly. He didn’t want to get into the conversation with his own cum smeared on his chest and Daryl’s dripping from him. “Nothing.”

“Paul,” Daryl warned. “Is it ‘cause you called me your boyfriend? We already agreed we were in a relationship. The word is stupid, but I guess that’s what we are. Unless you don’t wanna be?”

Paul heart softened at the vulnerability on Daryl’s face. “Of course I do. I just don’t want say anything that will have you running for the hills.”

“I ain’t running. I already told you that.”

Swiping Daryl’s hair away from his face, Paul smiled. “I know.”

Daryl returned his grin. “Since that’s sorted, get your ass in the shower so we can get back into bed.”

With great reluctance, Paul pushed himself away from the warmth of Daryl’s body. “Everyone is going to know we’ve been fucking and they’re going to think we’re spending the rest of the afternoon doing it too.”

Daryl shrugged. “They can think what they like. You need to take it easy because that wasn’t tame.”

“Yeah, we got carried away.”

“Can’t help myself around you.”

Paul laughed, walking to the door. “Do you remember not so long ago when all you did was try and get away from me?”

“Because I knew you were trouble!” Daryl called after him.

Paul smiled to himself, turning on the lukewarm shower, Tyr excited to be in their company again. He watched as the puppy ran up the hallway and jumped onto the bed, narrowing missing Daryl’s exposed balls.

Life was good.


	14. Hilltop Has A Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you for the comments! Hope you're still enjoying the story :)

Daryl caught a glimpse of Paul in the distance, striding towards Sasha with a friendly smile on his face. Shit, he needed to concentrate on the work he was doing to his bike, not spend half his day staring at Paul like some lovesick fool.

Problem was, no matter how much he told himself to stop, focus on the task at hand, his eyes remained fixated on Paul’s ass. _Focus!_

Daryl started tinkering with the bike again, solely to prove to himself that he could. The past couple of weeks had been quiet, which he was grateful for. It had given Paul the time to heal and he was almost back to one hundred percent.

Maggie had also come up with a plan to find out who was working with the Saviours. Well, Daryl though, it wasn’t much a plan. She had asked them to take a list of names and start networking, her reasoning being that they were only going to notice anything out of the ordinary if they were paying attention.

In his opinion, it was a waste of time. He agreed they had to do something; people were starting to ask questions about staying inside the walls. But talking to a bunch of people he had no interest in? He did his part for the community because he recognised that they all needed to work together to build a world worth living in, but he didn’t want to spend his time socialising.

He’d never been any good at fitting in and the pathetic attempts he had made since Maggie had told them her plan only made that more obvious. People weren’t going to talk to him. They might talk to Paul, Enid or Sasha. Even Maggie, but they weren’t going to speak to him.

Old ways of judging still had a nasty habit of sticking around, even in the new world.

To make things worse, Maggie had arranged a party, due to take place that night. Daryl didn’t know if it was distract folks from what was going on, give them a reward for working hard or another way to try and figure out who was betraying them. Whatever she was trying to accomplish, it meant he was going to have to spend the night talking to more people.

Fuck, he was all talked out.

The only person he wanted to talk to was Paul and as everyone at Hilltop thought they could monopolise his time, Daryl didn’t get to talk to him much during the day. Now they were going to take his night with Paul too.

Some part of him knew he was being pathetic; the more dominant part of him didn’t care.

To be fair to the community, they hadn’t made a big deal out of his and Paul’s relationship. He thought that was mostly because they liked Paul. Whatever the reason, he was grateful. There had been a few glances and comments, but it was all harmless. Nothing like the homophobia he had seen growing up.

Footsteps behind him had his muscles tensing. “Thought I would find you here.”

He jumped up at the sound of the familiar voice, genuine joy shooting through his system. Carol’s face appeared before him, eyes bright. Daryl pulled her in for a hug, surprised by how much he had missed her. “I didn’t know you were comin’.”

“Happy accident. I just got done speaking with Maggie and she told me about the party tonight. I was going to stay a few days anyway, but I’ve got to admit, a party sounds great.”

Daryl pulled back, “Is everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered, squeezing his shoulder. “Everything is good. We’re running a little low on food at the Kingdom so I volunteered to come trade.”

“You came on your own?” he frowned, thinking of the trigger-happy Saviours. They needed to find a way to communicate over longer distances.

“No, Diane and a few others came with me. Maggie told me what happened to Jesus.”

At the mention on Paul’s name, he stiffened, heart beating loudly inside his chest. There was nothing in her tone to suggest that she knew about their relationship. He wanted to tell her, but the right words were elusive, so he just nodded.

“Any suspects yet?” she asked.

Why couldn’t he tell her about Paul? He was happy, probably the happiest he had ever been personally. Carol was his best friend, his family. He knew she would be share his joy, but there was the slightest chance that she wouldn’t and he didn’t know he would handle that possibility.

“Daryl?”

She nudged him, shaking him from the spiral he had been sliding down. “Ex-Saviours. Gregory. Can’t see it bein’ anyone who fought the Saviours with us.”

“Me either. Everything Maggie said suggests that they want Negan out of that cell. Back at that ambush, they wanted to capture one of you for leverage.”

“That’s what we figured. Enough of that shit, what have you been doin’?”

Carol smiled at him. “How about we catch up over a hunt?”

He was itching to get outside the walls and the likelihood of Saviours hanging around Hilltop in broad daylight was low. “You think you can keep up with me?”

“Hell yeah,” she replied.

Half an hour later they were searching for animal tracks. Daryl knew the area well and was confident that they would find some decent meat for the party tonight. Leaving Hilltop had been relatively easy as no one wanted to question him and he wasn’t asking permission.

He wondered if he should have told Paul he was going out. They had fallen into a good routine over the last few weeks, spending their days apart of their nights together. Daryl had been fine with that because he knew Paul wouldn’t be outside the walls. Now he was breaking the rules and if Paul found out before he was back, Daryl knew he would worry.

Shit, he should have told him.

He would be pissed if Paul had left him in the dark like that. It hadn’t crossed his mind until he had spotted the first walker, but now it was all he could think about. Instead of obsessing about it, Daryl focused on Carol, listening as she filled him in on what was happening at The Kingdom.

“He should grate on my nerves,” Carol said about Ezekiel, laughing. “I mean, he does, but he’s sweet. A good man.”

Daryl had to agree on that point. “Yeah, he’s alright.”

“High praise from you.”

“As long as he does right by you, he’s good with me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You know me well enough to know that if it ends in disaster, I’d be the one to hurt him. He’s a sweetheart.”

“You think just because you’re a badass now, he can’t hurt you?” Daryl asked. Carol had come a long way. She had lost some of the softness she had at the beginning, gaining a hard shell that even he found difficult to crack at times. Underneath it all though, she was the most caring person he had ever met. The King could hurt her and they both knew it.

They walked along in silence for a few moments before she turned to him. “Were you going to tell me about Jesus?”

Trust her to turn the tables on him as soon as the conversation reached a point she wasn’t comfortable with. “What about him?” he feigned ignorance, mostly just to annoy her.

“You’re with him. How did that happen?”

“We had sex, tried to keep it at just that and it didn’t work out for us.”

“So you like him?”

Daryl looked ahead, avoiding her gaze. It shouldn’t be so difficult to talk to her about Paul.

“You aren’t an obvious match,” she said when he didn’t answer.

Annoyance flared. “And?”

“Nothing. Just making an observation.”

Daryl started to walk, leaving her to trail behind him. “If you got somethin’ to say, just spit it out.”

“I don’t know him all that well, what do you want me to say? I like what I’ve seen of him, but he doesn’t seem like the type of man you would choose to be with.” The hint of disapproval was like a vice constricting around his throat.

He said nothing, unease scratching at his skin. Focusing on the landscape ahead, he marched on.

He had given the King a chance, hadn’t he? Maybe he had a few comments, but he had accepted that ultimately it was Carol’s decision even if he couldn’t see what she saw him in. Or how she saw beneath the character he played.

He supported her, wasn’t much to expect the same from her.

“Daryl, wait,” she called when he quickened his pace.

He turned to her. “What?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you mad at me?”

Was he? Yeah, he was. He wanted her to be happy for him, not give him some bullshit about liking what she had seen of Paul so far. From Carol's lips that was far from praise; it was a way of saying that she couldn’t see it working between them without voicing the opinion

“Just forget it,” he muttered.

“Daryl,” she half-laughed, as if exasperated by him. As if he were being irrational. Paul was important to him, they had gone way past the stage of just fucking around. Was it really too much to as for her to take it seriously?

He shook his head, continuing on. “I told you, just forget it.”

They spent the rest of the time outside the walls in relative silence, only communicating about the game they were tracking. By the time they reached Hilltop, a few measly rabbits in tow, there was a tension between them that he hadn’t experience in a long time.

As soon as he could, he left Carol and headed back to the trailer he had pretty much moved into with Paul. There was a familiar itch beneath his skin, a voice compelling him to take off for a few days. It was the same voice that always haunted him when there was some kind of personal conflict in his life.

Instead of listening to it, he retreated to the place that had become a sanctuary to him. He and Carol had been out for a couple of hours so he knew Paul and the puppy should be back soon. He sat on the bed in a towel after taking a shower, his heart squeezing painfully inside of his chest when he thought back on the way Carol had made a judgement about his relationship without knowing anything about it.

His head tipped up when he heard the door to the trailer open. Paul was talking to the dog, telling him what a good boy he had been during the day. Daryl would usually enjoy the exchange, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Carol’s reaction earlier on.

Paul came into view, shedding his coat. “Oh hey, you’re back. Maggie said you were outside with Carol, I was worried.”

His reply was automatic. “Yeah, sorry. Should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I knew you and Carol would have each other’s back. How is she? Kind of crazy that she turned up the night of the party.”

Oh fuck, he had forgotten about that. Just what he needed.

“Yeah.”

He felt Paul’s eyes on him as he moved closer. Paul went down on his knees, tilting Daryl’s head up with his hands so that their eyes met. “What’s wrong?”

The concern in Paul’s expression made him want to bury his head in the other man’s nape. Daryl didn’t know how to get the words out. How to explain the relationship between himself and Carol and why her lack of enthusiasm about Paul was getting to him so much.

“Daryl?” Paul prompted, his thumb stroking Daryl’s cheek. “Did something happen out there? Were you hurt?”

“No,” he answered quickly. Worrying him was the last thing Daryl wanted to do. “Carol asked me about us.”

“Okay...,” he drew out, confused. He must have seen something in Daryl’s face because he then said, “Ahh, she doesn’t approve?”

Daryl shrugged, frustrated. He wanted to pull his hair out. “I don’t know what the hell she thinks. I know her, you know? I can tell what she’s thinkin’ even if she doesn’t want to say it.”

“You wanted her to be happy for you,” Paul said, still surrounding Daryl with his heat. Having Paul close soothe the worst of his disquiet.

“Yeah,” he admitted, realising it was getting easier to be honest with expressing his emotions with Paul. He made it so damn easy. There was never any judgement, he listened and offered advice when Daryl asked for it.

“What did she say?” Paul asked.

Daryl gave him a run down of their conversation. Paul waited patiently. He took a moment to think before he responded. “Baby, I’m not saying you’re overreacting, but you should have talked it out with her. She is right in some respects; she doesn’t know me and she’s your best friend. She doesn’t know with certainty that I’m good enough for you.”

Daryl’s face scrunched up as his own hand covered Paul’s. “You’re too good for me.”

“No, I’m not. We already talked about this. I’ve kept it quiet because you know how people can be, but before all of this, I was a thief. A pretty damn good one too. I’m not the type of guy someone would want to take home to meet their friends and family.”

Daryl laughed at Paul’s confession. It made sense, he thought and it didn’t bother him a bit. It wasn’t like he had been the most upstanding citizen. “What did you steal?”

Paul smiled mischievously. “Not important.”

Daryl took the opportunity to grab him around the waist when he stood, pulling him on top of him as he propelled backwards on the bed. “I wanna know.”

“My lips are sealed,” Paul said, rubbing his body against Daryl’s before stilling and sobering a little. “Talk to her. I just wanted to say that before we get distracted by sex. Also, we are going to the party tonight so it needs to be a quickie.”

Shit, he was falling in deep. Paul was exactly who he needed in his life. “Do we have to go?”

Paul pressed tiny kisses onto Daryl’s shoulder and chest. “Yes, we have to go.”

“But we could stay and fuck all night.”

“Tempting, but I have a surprise for you.”

Curiosity distracted him from the fact that he really didn’t want to go. Typically he hated surprises, but if Paul was involved, it couldn’t be all bad. “You ain’t gonna tell me, are you?”

“Nope,” Paul confirmed, straddling his hips and tugging the towel from his body. “How else am I going to get you to go?”

“All you have to do is ask,” Daryl said, only realising it was the truth as the words were leaving his lips.

Falling in deep. 


	15. The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Paul sings is The Fire by Ben Howard. I love it, couldn't resist finding a way to put it in here! Check it out if you get time, it's a great song.

Paul tugged on Daryl’s hand, the sound of quiet music playing in the air. Listening to a live band again felt amazing. Being with Daryl, his body still humming with satisfaction from their quick bout of sex, felt amazing. He was even amused by Daryl’s complete lack of enthusiasm for the evening.

Daryl allowed himself to be pulled along. Paul had already decided that he would only leave his side if his man wanted to talk to Carol alone and whilst he performed. God, he hoped Daryl liked the over the top gesture. It had been a while before he had sung in front of an audience; the nerves were already getting to him a little.

He turned to Daryl, excited. “What do you want to do first?”

Daryl cast his gaze over the stalls that had been set up. There was everything from face painting to apple bobbing. “I ain’t that bothered. What do you wanna do?”

“Daryl, get excited! We never get this kind of time to relax with everyone.”

He looked unconvinced. “One of these people are tryin’ to kill us. Some already have tried in the past.”

Paul rolled his eyes, taking hold of both of Daryl’s hand. “I’ll give you that, but try to get forget about it. Just for one night.”

“Ain’t likely. You nearly died.”

Stepping closer, Paul pressed his body to Daryl’s, hoping to soothe his ruffled feathers. “But I didn’t and we’re here so lets just enjoy it. If you don’t turn that frown upside down, you won’t get your surprise.”

A smile stretched across Daryl’s lips as he looped his finger in Paul’s belt. “You’re such a fuckin’ goof sometimes.”

“You like that about me, admit it.”

Daryl lifted his shoulder, yanking Paul’s chain. “I don’t know… Never really been into the that kind of man.”

Paul pressed a kiss to his lips. “Shush yourself.”

They shared a chuckle, the mood between them light and yet so full of depth. It was the kind of connection he had craved since he was a child, but had always found to be elusive. He’d had his fun over the years and some of the men, like Alex, had tried to force a connection that just simply wasn’t there. With Daryl, it was effortless.

The others had attempted to tie him down. Daryl hadn’t demanded anything and yet, Paul wanted to give him everything. 

For the next hour, Paul dragged Daryl around the various stalls, unable to believe how happy he was. Happiness was almost foreign to him. He had been satisfied with his life and then the outbreak had happened. From that moment on, his life had then been about surviving.

Until he had met Daryl. Something had sparked between them and it had led them here. A pretty domesticated couple, enjoying an evening surrounded by friends. Daryl was never going to be the most sociable of guys, but he didn’t mind that. It felt so goddam normal to for them to be walking around, putting a public claim on each other, trying to get Daryl to say more than a few words to some of the ex-Saviours. 

The only awkward moment came when they ran into Carol. She gave them both a warm smile. Daryl gave her nothing back, making it clear that he was in no mood to talk after their exchange outside the walls.

After a short conversation, Daryl led them away from his friend. Paul glanced back at her, noting the sadness in her eyes as she stared after them. He could understand her reservations about them as a couple; to anyone looking at them on a superficial level, they were worlds apart.

And as much Paul wanted to think otherwise, he knew the Alexandrians and by extension Carol, still didn’t trust him one hundred percent. He was pretty sure Carol would come around once she realised that they truly cared for each other so he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

Daryl, on the other hand, was a stubborn bastard. Paul knew that from personal experience, but he thought if anyone could break Daryl’s defences, it was Carol.

Moving towards the makeshift stage Earl had created, Paul pushed the thoughts from his mind. Tonight was about celebrating, taking a moment to appreciate being alive. He and Daryl found a place to sit amongst the other Hilltoppers.

Only Maggie knew he was planning on singing. They listened to a few songs, Paul laying his head on Daryl’s shoulder. Relaxing with Daryl felt so good. Whenever he had seen the man before they started hooking up, Daryl had always appeared restless, like he was looking for the next task to focus on.

It was hard to believe he was the same man who was cuddled up next to him, fingers caressing Paul’s thigh. More difficult to believe he was so unfazed showing affection publicly, that he didn’t care that everyone knew about the nature of their relationship when he had been so adamant at the beginning it had to be kept quiet.

“Where are you goin’?” Daryl clamped an arm around his shoulder in an attempt to keep him close. Paul gave in for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Your surprise,” he said with a shaky smile, nerves plaguing him. What if Daryl didn’t like it?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Was it too late to back out?

“Up next we have Jesus!” Maggie’s voice erupted from the ‘stage’.

Yep, too late.

Daryl’s eyes slammed into his. “You’re singin’?”

Paul said nothing. He broke contact and made his way through the crowd that seemed like it had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Where had all these people come from?

He walked up onto the stage, plastering a smile on his face, hoping to exude some kind of confidence he didn’t feel on the inside. He took the guitar handed to him and sat down on the stool which had been placed on centre stage.

Paul found Daryl in the middle of the crowd, an intense expression on that beautiful face of his. The connection gave him the courage and strength to continue.

The song he had chosen had always struck a cord with him, always made him yearn for someone to fuel his desire, his need, someone to give his love to. Eyes still on his man, his fingers began strumming on the guitar.

_ Lie here ‘till your world stops spinning round;_

_Lie near me ‘till the birds start singing out_

_Oh come show what it is to be warm_

_Be my shelter and I’ll be your storm._

_Oh come; lie down ‘till the four winds cease to blow;_

_Lie here full of rivers that you know_

_And I’ll make your bones shake_

_The sweat we take off hearts still battered and worn_

_Be my shelter and I’ll be your storm_

_And we'll show the fire,_

_Yeah we'll show the fire how to burn_

_Yeah we'll show the fire,_

_We'll show the fire how to burn_

_We’ll show the fire,_

_We'll show the fire how to burn_

_Yeah we'll show the fire,_

_We'll show the fire how to burn_

_I don't know, I don't know where you came from_

_Honey God's been smiling;_

_I don't know, I don't know where the rain's gone_

_But it's been a while been a while now_

_I don't know, I don't know where you came from_

_Honey God's been, God’s been smiling;_

_I don't know, I don't know where the rain's gone_

_But it's been a while been a while, been a while_

_Been a while now_

_Yeah I don't know, I don't know where you came from_

_Honey God's been, God’s been smiling down_

_I don't know, I don't know where the rain's gone_

_But it's been a while been a while, been a while_

_It’s been a while, been a while now_

An applause broke out when he finished. Paul’s cheeks flushed slightly, well aware that he had just bared his soul to the community. Though he hadn’t expressly dedicated the song to Daryl, there would be no doubt who he had been singing to and about.

He left the stage with a smile on his face and a quick bow, eager to get back to Daryl. By the time he had handed the guitar back to its owner, he had lost track of Daryl. He looked over to the spot where Daryl had occupied before, frowning when he realised that he was no longer there.

Unease uncurled in his stomach, old insecurities coming back to haunt him. The fear that he wasn’t good enough. He had tried to so something to show how much he cared for Daryl and it had backfired. He should have known that something so corny would repel Daryl, rather than draw him closer.

Paul nudged his way through the people, a sense of dejection lodging itself inside his heart. He slipped away from the busy area, wandering towards his trailer, head bowed. He nearly had a fucking heart attack when he reached the trailer and he was pushed against the metal.

As soon as the body pressed up behind him, his tense muscles relaxed. Daryl spun his around, taking his mouth with a relentlessness that Paul loved. Despite his concerns that Daryl hated the song, Paul yielded beneath him.

“You sung for me,” Daryl whispered against his lips, his hips glued to Paul’s. Paul tried to avoid his gaze, embarrassed that he had been such a dork. Daryl brought his hand up, placing it on Paul’s jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have done it. You don’t want people talking about us and I think I just put us on everyone’s map.”

Daryl looked at him for a moment. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. That was hot as hell and you sounded so fuckin’ good.”

“You liked it?” He hated the self-doubt in his voice. He had worked hard to become comfortable with himself, overcoming the insecurities his unstable childhood had left him with. Most of the time, he succeeded in doing that. Times like tonight, it was easy to give into them.

Somewhere inside, he realised he still thought himself unworthy of affection. Love. Attention. He was so quick to believe that was how everyone viewed him.

Daryl’s brows drew together. “Paul, I loved it. I could listen to you for hours.”

A smile played on his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you earned yourself a reward.”

Exhilaration pumped in his veins. “What kind of reward?” he asked, his tone playful. He wasn’t going to let his head ruin what was in reality, a great night.

“What do you want?” Daryl pinched his nipple, sending shockwaves through his body.

His breath came quicker, images of Daryl splayed out beneath him about to short-circuit his brain. “You. I want to feel your tight ass squeeze my cock.”

They had talked about it, they had been on their way to doing it when Alex had rudely interrupted them. Paul didn’t know why they hadn’t tried it since – maybe because he realised that it was another step, another vine that tied them together and if they didn’t hold something back for themselves, they would get lost in each other.

It was too late for that and they both knew it.

“I want that,” Daryl said in his low growl he loved so much.

“Are you sure?”

Daryl bit down on his neck. “Yeah, I’m sure. I ain’t no blushin’ virgin. I can take your cock.”

Cock jerking in response, Paul took a deep breath. If he was going to fuck Daryl, he needed to stay in control. As much as Daryl put on a good front, there had to be some nerves there. Giving yourself to someone that way put you in a vulnerable position so he was going to take care of his man.

“I have one condition,” Paul spoke. “I want you to talk to Carol in the morning.” Daryl’s muscles bunched beneath his hands. Paul used a soothing voice. “You don’t know when you’ll see her again. Leaving things strained between you will only hurt you.” Daryl was on shaky ground with Rick still; with everything going on they hadn’t been able to leave Hilltop to visit Alexandria.

Daryl needed his relationship with Carol to be okay.

“You’re ruinin’ my mood,” Daryl stated. Paul wasn’t deterred; he had learnt that his bark was worse than his bite and on the occasion Daryl did used he teeth, Paul actually enjoyed it.

They had a short stare-off before Daryl gave in with a huffed that bordered on childish. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

Paul flashed him a grin. “Good. Now we can get back to my reward.” He tugged Daryl in for another kiss. Seconds later they were fumbling with the trailer door, greeted by an jumping Tyr. Considering the attention Paul had lavished on him all day, he didn’t feel too bad about dragging into the bedroom and shutting the door behind them.

Once they recovered from their activities, one of them would take him for a quick walk.

They stripped down to their skin, stealing kisses and touches in between. Paul’s blood heated his body from the inside out. His movements were hurried, urgent. He had been waiting a long time to sink inside Daryl’s ass and the prospect was making him dizzy with desire.

Daryl stumbled back onto the bed. Paul came down on top of him, sucking in a breath when their cocks touched. Despite his own excitement, he realised that Daryl was more tense than he had ever been before they’d had sex.

Paul gazed down at him, affection washing through him. “We don’t have to do this,” he said with concern he couldn’t hide. He was happy to bottom all the time. He didn’t want Daryl to push himself when Paul was more than satisfied with their sexual relationship.

Daryl shifted beneath him, uncomfortable. “I want to…” he licked his lips. “I’m just nervous. Haven’t had someone inside of me for a long time.”

The thought of anyone else being so close to Daryl set Paul on edge. That was new for him; possessiveness over his lovers had never been an issue for him in the past.

Seeing Daryl uneasy had his protective instincts roaring to life. He would do whatever necessary to ensure that Daryl felt safe with him. “We’ll take it slow and if you want me to stop, I will. All you have to do is say the word.”

Daryl inclined his chin. Paul crawled down his body, stopping when he reached that magnificent cock that had given him so much pleasure. He sucked with greed, alternating between the hard length and his balls, pleased with himself when Daryl squirmed under him, breath coming unevenly.

Daryl’s hands tangled in Paul’s loose hair. “You’re too good at this,” Daryl ground out in a husky voice.

Paul released his cock with a pop of the mouth. “I aim to please.” He wanted to make Daryl lose his mind and let go of every doubt he had.

Daryl’s thumb slide along his cheek. “You more than please me.”

Emotion rocked through Paul at the words. “No one’s ever cared about me the way you do.” Mixing sex and emotions was only going to complicated matters more. He no longer gave a shit; denying himself, trying to keep the last remaining barriers between them, was a fool’s task.

“Paul…” Daryl said, cutting himself off.

Paul smiled at him, trying to convey that he felt the same way. They had been lost before they found each other and every day, it was if they were finding their way home. To each other.

Daryl was officially the most important person in the world to him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I trust you.”

The simple words hit deep, a place that Paul had buried for so long. Christ, he was an emotional mess tonight. Daryl’s trust – a trust Paul knew was almost impossible to earn - had been given to him and he was honoured by it. 

Shaken, Paul took his time retrieving the lube from the drawer, giving himself some time to recover. He took a few pillows from the top of the bed and lodge them beneath Daryl’s ass.

It was surreal that they were doing this.

“Paul?”

He jerked his head up at Daryl’s questioning tone. “I’m good.”

“You sure you haven’t forgotten what you’re doing down there?” he joked.

Paul laughed, some of the tension dispelling from his body. He knew exactly why he was starting to freak out; Daryl trusted him and he could fuck up majorly. He pushed the self-doubts out of his mind with the help of Daryl’s earnest eyes.

Sitting back on his knees, Paul lathered his fingers with lube, circling Daryl’s tight hole.

He really hoped he didn’t fuck this up.


	16. Burn

Daryl locked eyes with Paul, his heart hammering inside his chest. Paul’s cock nudged at his entrance, the sensation causing havoc inside his body. Desire and anxiety were at war with each other, and he honestly had no idea which was going to come out on top.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Paul whispered, his silky tone like a caress.

The words were just what he needed.

Paul was the man who had got up on stage and sang for him. The man who had barrelled through all his fortified defences. The man Daryl had come to trust with everything he was.

He did as Paul instructed and relaxed, allowing him to slip a finger inside. It had been a while since he’d had anything up his ass, but Paul’s gentle invasion reminded him how potent the sensation was.

“Good?” Paul murmured.

Daryl moaned in response, Paul working his slicked up finger in and out, rimming and then plunging again. Cock heavy from Paul’s earlier assault, he was ready to burst, the teasing taking his need to a whole new level.

“More,” he demanded, hungry for everything Paul had to give.

Daryl caught Paul’s smile through hooded lids. “Eager for my cock now, are you?”

He was going to tell the smug bastard to fuck off. Would have if not for the addition of another finger stretching him wider. Blood pounded inside his ears. Paul was killing him; he would be surprised if he survived the night.

“You’re so tight around my fingers,” Paul bit out in a tone Daryl had never heard before. A part of him had been curious as to what kind of top Paul would be. Confident. He was glad that he had called that one. “Hmm, I think I want you in my mouth as I fuck you with my fingers.”

Daryl let out a strangled gasp as Paul seemed to swallow him whole. The man didn’t know what gag-reflex meant. If Paul had ever had one, he’d lost it a long time ago. His hips moved of their own accord, his body searching for pleasure.

It found it with every movement. His cock burying in the warmth of Paul’s throat and his prostate being nudged by his fingers. His nerves had vanished. All he wanted now was to be fucked. 

Losing control.

Losing.

Control.

“Paul…fuck me. Right fuckin’ now.” He didn’t know whether it was a plea or command. Both. He would beg, he would rage if Paul didn’t get inside his ass in the next ten seconds.

Paul groaned, the sound vibrated up the length of his cock. _I’m gonna come… _“Paul!” he snapped, tugging at his hair again. He wanted to come with Paul inside him.

Eyes heavy, Paul lifted his head. “Oopps, I got carried away.”

Sweat beading on his skin, Daryl gulped in some air. He locked onto Paul’s eyes. “Now.”

“You’re a demanding bottom.”

Amusement well. “Fuck you.” Paul slid his hands up Daryl’s thighs, cupping his balls in a firm grip. Daryl inhaled sharply. “Still want to talk back to me?”

He was losing patience. “Paul…”

Paul shifted, fin-a-fuckly-ly, positioning his cock at Daryl’s ass. “Hook your legs around my waist,” he said, playfulness gone. It had been replaced with an intensity, rocking Daryl’s soul.

Daryl did as he was told, loving the weight of the other man on top of him. The position pushed them closer together, their bodies kissing. Caressing. Feeling.

“You ready?” Paul asked, swiping Daryl’s hair away from his face.

“I’ve been ready,” Daryl answered with half a smile. Paul’s concern bathed him in a warmth that had been missing all of his life. He had friends now, a family, but he had never had someone look at him the way Paul did.

As if he were the only person in the world.

Corny, but in that moment, it was the absolute truth.

Paul lowered his head, enticing him into a sensual kiss that seemed never ending. _So fuckin’ good. I could kiss him all day and night. He’s perfect. _

There was a pressure at his ass. Before he could really react to it, Paul was working his way inside of him with shallow thrusts that filled Daryl so completely. There was some discomfort – or did it just feel weird because he hadn’t experience it for so long?

Fuck if he knew and soon it was gone, Paul buried into the hilt. He moaned, placing a hand above’s Daryl’s head to get better leverage. Daryl placed his hands on Paul’s taut ass, encouraging him to go faster.

What had he been nervous about? He honestly couldn’t remember. With Paul drilling into him, showering him pleasure, it was nearly impossible to remember his own name.

“You like that?” Paul asked through laboured breath.

“Fuck yes.”

“Do I feel this good to you?”

“Fuck _yes_.”

Paul pulled out, earning a displeased grunt from him. “Turn over.” Daryl complied, flipping himself over to his hands and knees, sticking his ass out in the air. “Scoot up a little, put your hands on the wall.”

He would do anything if it meant Paul’s cock in his ass again.

He didn’t have to wait long. They both cried out as Paul slammed inside of him. Paul’s hands were on his hips, dragging his body to meet the thrusts.

_So fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ good. _

Sex had never held much meaning for him. He had thought of it as a physical need. Nothing beyond that. Sex with Paul was more, so much more. There was connection deeper than the physical; it was everything Daryl never knew he had been missing.

And lucky for him, Paul had had been telling the truth about his skills.

“Make me come,” he demanded. He couldn’t wait any longer. There was an urgency building inside of him; if his cock didn’t blow, he would internally combust.

Paul’s hand close around him, gripping him tightly. It took all of a minute before Daryl was coming, shooting across the bedspread. His ass clenched around Paul and the next thing he knew, Paul was unloading inside of him with a loud cry.

They were both sweaty messes, their bodies plastered together in a heap. Daryl’s whole body tingled, a keen satisfaction filling him. Paul kissed his back, the sweet gesture too much for his short-circuited brain.

“Are you –

He cut Paul off, guessing what his question was going to be. “Paul, you fucked me so good. Gonna be okay for the rest of my life.”

There was a quiet chuckle before Paul slid out of him, causing him to wince a little. Daryl was happy to roll over and lie down as Paul left the bed. He came back with some towels, cleaning them both up as best he could.

Settling under the covers, he pulled his man into his arms, falling asleep with a content smile on his face.

Paul woke with a groan, the sound of coughing close to his ears. Half-asleep, Paul turned to Daryl, concern. “Hey, you okay?”

An eruption of coughing overtook his own body, leaving him gasping for breath. What the hell? He sat up, looking around the room. They stung. His eyes stung.

“Daryl?” he half-yelled his name, fear taking root. _Wake up, wake up. _

Paul jumped out of bed, opening the bedroom door, heart sinking when he saw the flames creeping up the walls. He scanned the interior, terror consuming him as he tried to locate Tyr. They had never gotten round to letting the puppy in the bedroom.

He turned around. “Daryl! Wake up!”

Was he okay? Fuck!

Paul stepped into the tiny hallway, searching for Tyr. He was never going to forgive himself if anything happened to the dog. Heat licked at his skin, the smoke burning his lungs. He was just about to move forward when he was dragged backwards.

“What the hell are you doin’?”

Paul wanted to fall into Daryl’s arms. The best he could do was say, “Tyr.”

Daryl glanced to the flames, back to Paul. “I’ll get him. Get dressed and get out the bedroom window. Place is going to fall fast.”

“No!” he protested, he was faster than Daryl. It didn’t make sense for him to be the one to search for the dog. “I can get him.”

“Not happenin’” Daryl said with no room for argument. He pushed Paul towards the bedroom. “Go. I’ll get him.”

Eyes burning up, Paul nodded stiffly. The longer they talked about it, the less time either one of them would have to find the puppy. It was the only reason why he gave in so quickly. When they got out of this, they would be having words about Daryl’s macho bullshit. “Be careful. I’ll come in after you,” he warned. Daryl would take chances with his own life, but not with the those he cared for. 

Jaw clenched, Daryl ran deeper into the trailer. Paul locked his panic down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He dressed quickly, donning his leather jacker. His eyes darted towards the bedroom door as he packed a few essential items, worry stealing his concentration.

A few minutes passed and Daryl still wasn’t back. Paul moved over to the small window, opening it up as wide as he could. It was going to be a bitch to get through, more problematic for Daryl, but it would have to do.

Paul looked to the door again, his stomach churning. Daryl’s crossbow glinted in the light. He grabbed it and threw it through the window, hoping it landed on soft ground.

Where was he?

Paul couldn’t leave without him. He tried, he really fucking did, but he was not leaving the burning trailer without Daryl. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with the man. If he was honest with him, he was already there.

“Daryl!” he yelled, thrusting himself towards the bedroom door.

A hard object hit him in the shoulder, the force driving him backwards. He caught a coughing Daryl in his arms, relieved when he saw a blinking Tyr tucked against his chest. He took Daryl’s face in his hands. “Daryl?”

Daryl coughed again, the sound hurting Paul’s heart. “I’m fine. Out. Now.”

Shit, he was just standing there, doing nothing like an idiot. Since settling at Hilltop, he had been in a number of life and death situations. He should be _doing _something. He grabbed onto Daryl’s hand, dragging him towards the window. “Come on!”

They reached the window. Paul tried to push Daryl in front of him, but the stubborn shit wasn’t having any of it. “Daryl, please. Just go. You’re breathed in more smoke than me.” The bedroom was thick with it, clogging up both of their lungs.

Daryl shook his head. “No. You first.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Paul shouted. Daryl was going to get himself killed one of these days. Why couldn’t he see that would destroy him?

He slammed the bedside table up against the wall, stepping onto it. He would try going out feet first, aware that headfirst could result in an injury. The trailer windows were fairly high off the ground. 

His legs were soon dangling out of the window as he attempted to slide through the gap. It was tight. Tighter than he was comfortable with, but he kept going, eventually letting go and falling to the ground with a jarring thud.

If not for the fact that Daryl was still in danger, he would have taken the time to appreciate the clean air. He barely had time to gather his sense before Daryl was handing down the terrified puppy. Paul set him down after giving him a quick hug, intent on helping Daryl through the tiny opening.

“Hurry up,” he called, anxious that Daryl was being expose to too much smoke. Flames were becoming visible down the other side of the trailer.

Finally, Daryl’s legs came out the window. Paul aided where he could, but there was only so much he could do. It was up to Daryl to shimmy his body through the gap. It a took longer than Paul liked, his instincts screaming to get them all far away from the trailer, but by some miracle Daryl got out, stumbling into Paul.

He swung the puppy up in his arms and snagged Daryl’s shirt, hauling him backwards. When they were a safe distance away, they all fell to the cold ground. Paul watched his home burn down, only distantly aware of Hilltoppers coming out of their homes, scurrying around.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, Daryl in between his legs, Tyr scooped against his side. He realised with a dull numbness that they could all be dead. If he hadn’t woken when he did. If Daryl hadn’t started coughing in his sleep. If, if, if.

Fuck.

“Jesus! Daryl!” Maggie’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, from the morbidly fascinating sight of the flames dancing in the air. She knelt beside them. “Are you hurt?”

Paul swallowed, looking down at himself. “I’m good. Daryl keeps coughing. He needs to be looked at.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, the response plucking on Paul’s last nerve.

Anger flared, so savage that it rocked him. “You’re not fucking fine!” His anger erupted into something that was impossible to control. He pushed himself off the ground. “Why do you have to play the hero? I didn’t need you to place yourself in danger for me.”

Maggie put a hand on his shoulder, expression soft. “Jesus…”

“No,” he said, tears burning at the back of his eyes. Daryl looked up at him, concerned. Now the adrenaline was fading and he could think properly, he was so pissed at Daryl. “No! I’m so fed up with this shit.”

He walked away without another word, shaken. Lashing out wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t give him his home back or ensure Daryl would stop trying to protect him at the risk of his own life. No, lashing out wouldn’t solve a thing, but it made him feel a whole let better.

For a second before the reality of the night came crashing down on him again. There were so many emotions warring inside of him, fighting for dominance.

The one that came out on top was fear.

He walked blindly, totally unaware of his surroundings, stuck in his own head. A few minutes – or hours – later he stopped, finding himself at the entrance to Hilltop. There were no guards. Probably as a result of the fire. So he made his way to the top of the wall, lowering himself to the floor, back against the wall.

Rays of light touched his skin. He gazed towards the sun rising in the distance, a beautiful scene that would usually take his breath away. It still did, he supposed. There was comfort in the first light of day. A hope, that whatever had happened the previous day, the previous month, year; no matter how dark it got, the light would always come again.

He needed some of that hope right now.


	17. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas :) I've eaten way to much and I think it's messed with my brain, finding it so hard to write!

Daryl watched Paul walk away, wishing he could say something that would make him feel better, but he knew there were no easy words. They were both only just beginning to fully understand what they were risking by allowing themselves to fall for each other.

When he had woken to find Paul about to walk into a fucking fire, he had lost all sense of reason.

Maggie placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “He’s just upset,” she said trying to comfort him.

Whilst he appreciated the gesture, he didn’t need her comfort right now. “You got everything under control here?” he asked, taking a look around the burning trailer. A dozen or so members of the community were working hard to stifle the flames, everyone worried that they could set the outer wall on light. If that went down, they were fucked.

The walls were their strongest defence, if they fell, Hilltop would fall.

Maggie followed his gaze, determination shining through. “Yeah. Go and get checked out.”

“Don’t get too close to the fire,” he warned, coughing through the words. He didn’t want her inhaling any smoke that might harm the baby. 

She nodded. “I won’t. I’ll just keep watch, make sure we have everything covered. Stay in the infirmary tonight. We can find somewhere for you both to sleep tomorrow.”

In the infirmary with Alex. Great. As if his fucking night couldn’t get any worse. Didn’t matter, he would stop by the infirmary, but he had other plans for the night.

He rose from cold ground, his body aching with every movement. “Tyr, come.”

The pup was dancing around his feet as if nothing had happened. Daryl had found him curled up in the shower stall, shaking with fear. The dog had been damn lucky that Daryl had found him when he did. Any longer and the flames would have reached the bathroom.

Daryl gathered the stuff Paul had thrown out the window and stalked towards the infirmary, hacking up his lungs as he moved. He understood Paul’s anger. There was an inferno raging inside of him forming a protective bubble around the sharp fear that had settled in his gut.

At the infirmary he was greeted by an anxious Enid. She flung herself at him, the movement surprising the hell out of him as he caught her. “You’re okay,” she sagged in relief before peering around him. “What about Jesus? Where is he?”

“He ain’t hurt.” Not the on the outside, anyway.

She led him to an empty bay. Tyr jumped at her legs, begging for attention. She picked him up and nuzzled his neck. “What happened?”

Daryl shrugged. He had his suspicions, but the less people who knew about them, the better. He needed to sit down with Maggie. Look around the trailer for evidence before he started pointing fingers at anyone.

“Can you watch the dog for a bit?” he asked, placing their things down on the floor. If someone had set that fire on purpose, they had intended for it to kill him. Or Paul. Either way, he wasn’t letting Paul wander around without backup.

“Sure,” she said with a frown. “Don’t you want to get looked over first? You don’t sound healthy.”

He waved off her concern. “I’m fine. Got something I need do.”

She studied him for a minute, sighing. “Fine, but I want to see you back here soon, Daryl. I’m not kidding around.”

Daryl stroked a thumb over Tyr’s ear before leaving. It didn’t take him long to find Paul. He was walking around without a purpose or destination in mind, making it clear to Daryl that the other man needed some space. So he stayed out of sight, settling on the grass when Paul made his way up the walls, looking out across the landscape.

When he couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer, Daryl climbed up the ladder. Paul’s glance flickered backwards, his expression unreadable. It twisted his insides to see the tear stains running down Paul’s face.

Daryl sat beside him, their legs touching.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Paul said softly.

“I get it.”

Paul met his eyes. “Do you?”

Daryl looked out towards the rising sun. “Yeah.”

He sighed, “Daryl, you can’t just tuck me away and take all the risk yourself. We won’t work if you insist on doing that. It might make you feel better to think that I’m safe, but it makes me feel ten times worse knowing that you won’t let me have your back.”

“There was no point in us both –“ he started to defend himself only to have Paul cut him off.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot. Maybe if you had left me go in with you, Tyr would have been found quicker and you wouldn’t have inhaled so much smoke. If you got it, you’d know that I don’t want to see you get hurt either.”

What could he say to that? Paul had a point; a good one “I know that.”

“I can look after myself. I don’t need you to shield me.”

Daryl huffed out a breath. Paul could probably kick his ass if he wanted to. Still, being able to fight and walking into a fire were two different things. “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I’m just goin’ to let you walk into danger.”

Paul rounded on him. “And you’re allowed? Why? Because of some macho bullshit?”

“No, because I care about you. More than just care,” he admitted. He hated talking about his fucking feelings, but they were the only reason he had for shoving Paul away from the fire. In that moment he hadn’t been thinking about which one of them had the skills to find the pup the quickest, he had only been thinking of keeping Paul safe.

He eyed Paul, aware that he hadn’t responded. He looked like shit, his eyes red from either the smoke or crying. Both, probably.

“I’m sorry,” Daryl continued, placing his hand on Paul’s knee.

Paul looked down at his hand, slid his over the over the top. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Daryl repeated, drawing Paul into his arms. “I’m sorry about the trailer too.”

Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl’s waist, rubbing his nose along his chest. “It was just stuff. I’m just glad we got out safely.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I don’t think it was accident,” Paul said against his shirt.

Daryl was relieved that someone was thinking along the same lines as him. With everything that had happened lately, there was a possibility that his mind had just gone there because he was getting paranoid.

“We’re gonna get some sleep and then we’re gonna take a look around the trailer. I’m no arson expert, but if someone set it, there should be signs. Evidence.”

Paul sat up, expression troubled. “And what are we going to do if we find out someone did start it deliberately?”

“I don’t know,” Daryl said, wishing he had some answers. “But whatever we do, we need to do it fast. You don’t set a fire like that, in the middle of the night, unless you’re tryin’ to kill someone.” People trying to kill him wasn’t new. Even before the outbreak, he had his fair share of brushes with death. What was unacceptable to him was someone trying to kill Paul.

They had made it out relatively unscathed, but who knew what the fucker had it store for them the next time?

He hoped like hell they were wrong, that the fire had started by itself.

Paul looked around the burnt shell of his home a few hours later, sorrow digging its dull claws inside his chest. He had meant what he had told Daryl, his belongings were just things. They could be replaced in a few runs. His sadness stemmed from the loss of his home, his safe place in a world that seemed intent on destroying them all.

Sasha stopped by his side, a scorched book in her hands. “You alright?”

He plastered on a smile. “I will be. Just need some time to process all this,” he said, waving his hand around. Daryl was sorting through some debris, no doubt looking for signs of foul play. So far, they had found nothing to suggest the fire had been set by a member of the community.

It should have been a relief, but he was sure it was just a matter of time until they found what they were looking for. He just couldn’t understand how a fire would have started in the trailer. It had no electricity or gas. He and Daryl had gone straight to the bedroom when they had returned from the party, so they had used no candles.

Sasha moved on, leaving him to his thoughts as he sorted through the wreckage. When his eyes landed on their bed, memories of Daryl’s ass constricting around him sprung up from nowhere. With the fire, he hadn’t had time to let himself think about how much having sex with Daryl, Daryl laying himself bare, had had meant to him.

Showed how much Daryl had come to trust him.

His eyes searched for Daryl’s, connecting immediately. They shared a brief tender moment before getting back to work.

Paul hadn’t fully forgiven Daryl for his absolute dismissal of his ability to take care of himself, but he understood it was something they were both going to have to work on going forward. Being in a relationship in a world full of the undead and the hazards they brought with them meant they were going to both be in danger more often than they would like.

They had to find a way to deal with it.

With his emotions stabilising, Paul could admit that he may had overreacted last night. His point had been valid, but yelling at Daryl after he had saved their dog, had been a low point for him. But he had been terrified and the aftermath of those potent feelings had left him looking for someone to release his emotion on.

Paul watched Carol approach Daryl, her steps hesitant. They talked quietly for a few minutes before Carol pulled his boyfriend in for a long hug. Daryl tensed at first, but soon relaxed in her arms. She surprised him by leaving Daryl and walking over to him.

“Do you hate me?” she asked with half a laugh which he knew masked the uncertainty she was feeling. Daryl meant a lot to her; their bond had been forged long before he and Daryl had started sleeping with each other.

“No, I don’t hate you. I understand your reservations about me.”

She cocked her head. “You know, I never said I had a problem with you two being together. I don’t know, maybe I was a little confused about it when I figured it out. I’ve known him for a long time now and I’ve never seen him look at anyone with interest before. He always surprises me so I should have known he get stuck on someone I would never suspect.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to completely figure him out,” Paul smiled, gazing over her shoulder to a glaring Daryl. He looked as if he wanted to stomp over and put an end to their conversation.

“Me either,” Carol responded. “As long as you are both happy, I’m happy. Just watch his back. Daryl told me your suspicions about the fire and I agree which means someone is trying to hurt you or him. I’m going to stay a few extra days, see if I can help.”

“Thank you.” She was a good person to have on side.

She touched his arm. “Daryl also told me you made him promise to speak to me so thank _you. _I love the others, but Daryl is…” she trailed off, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “He’s just special, you know? I can’t lose him.” Paul offered his arms out for a hug. She stepped into him, circling his waist. “Be good to him.”

“I intend to,” Paul answered, meeting Daryl’s eyes. “Always.”

She drew back, smiling. “I think you’re good for him. You sung that song for him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not used to people caring about him, putting him first. Singing for him,” she beamed. “I’m starting to understand how you two can work.”

“Because I sang for him?” Paul asked.

“Because he let you and what’s more, he liked it. He lets you care for him.” She patted his arm again. “Before I head back to the Kingdom, I’m going to head over to Alexandria first. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Rick and the others. I was going to ask you and Daryl if you wanted to come with me, but,” she looked around, “I don’t know if you’re going to be able to get away.”

Paul thought about it. There was a plan forming at the back of his mind, but he needed to talk to Daryl and Maggie first. “Can you meet us at the house in a couple of hours? We can give you an answer then.”

“Sure,” she replied, taking no notice of his strange request. “I’ll see you soon.”

They parted ways. Paul walked over to Daryl who was talking with Liam. If his body language was anything to go by, Daryl was stuck in a conversation he didn’t want to be in.

They stopped speaking as he approached, Liam greeting him first. “Hey, I was just telling Daryl I used to be a firefighter. I’d be happy to take a look around. I’m no expert, but I might be able to tell where the fire started.”

A firefighter? Paul hadn’t known that. Unfortunately, it made his suspicions rise rather than evaporate. God, he hated this. Suspecting everyone, not knowing who to trust. Despite his Saviour origins, Liam was a good guy,

“We’d appreciate it,” Paul managed, giving Daryl a knowing look. If Paul was doubting Liam’s motives, Daryl would be convinced he was the guilty party. “Speak to Sasha, she was organising the clean up the last I knew.”

Liam flashed him a smile. “Sure thing. I’m real sorry about your home. There must be some more units around like that, or maybe we could build something more permanent? I’ve been working with Earl, he’s up for getting some basic housing constructed.”

It sounded good, but Paul knew they weren’t going to be able to expand Hilltop until the remaining Saviour threat was gone. They were on lockdown, unable to venture out to get supplies. Was Liam messing with him? Fuck, he needed some sleep.

“I haven’t really thought about it yet. Let us know if you find anything.” The slightly dismissive tone earned him a raised eyebrow from Liam. He walked away, giving Daryl at a curt wave. Daryl merely grunted in response, leaving Paul watching in amusement.

He really hoped Daryl never changed.

“Wanna come and find somewhere to sleep with me?” Paul asked, chuckling when he realised what he said. “Rest. I honestly don’t think my cock is working right now.”

Daryl took hold of his hand. “Maggie said we could use her room. She knew we’d crash at some point.”

They had every intention of sleeping earlier, but they had both been eager to get back to the trailer and inspect the area. The morning had run away from them, hence his eyes feeling like they were rubbing against sandpaper.

“Sound great. So Liam’s a firefighter,” he said with dark humour.

“If he set the fire, it’s a fuckin’ bold move to come and offer us help like that.”

Paul considered it as Daryl led him inside Barrington House. “I don’t know. We don’t even know if some did set it.” They were getting ahead of themselves and the lack of sleep wasn’t helping.

“More likely than not,” Daryl murmured.

“I asked Carol to meet us here in a couple of hours. I think I have a plan to draw out the Saviours. Even if the fire wasn’t deliberate, we need to deal with them once and for all.”

“Yeah, we do.” Daryl tugged him up the stairs, into Maggie’s bedroom. “Shut it down for a while.”

Paul closed the door behind them, rubbing at his head. “My brain hurts.”

Daryl cupped his nape, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Better?”

_You’re going to kill me with that sweetness. _“Yes. You make everything better.”

Paul let himself be pushed to the bed. Daryl took his shoes off and tucked him in. He could only get comfortable when Daryl slid in beside him and took up position of the big spoon.


	18. The Plan

“We should move Negan,” Paul said, calmly. He folded his arms, leaning against the study desk.

Daryl’s eyes slammed to Paul as he questioned whether the man had lost his damn mind. “What?!” He glanced around at the others – Maggie, Sasha, Carol – finding the same ‘what the fuck’ expression plastered on their faces.

This was Paul’s plan?

“We wouldn’t actually move him, we’d use a decoy. We need something to draw the Saviours out and he’s the perfect bait,” Paul explained, his blue eyes serene, unperturbed by Daryl’s outburst. “Daryl and I can go to Alexandria with Carol, iron through the details with Rick. We come back, have a few indiscreet conversations so the word spreads. We pick a date, route, time. All but give the Saviours a damn map to us. We’ll be waiting for them.”

Daryl continued to stare at Paul whilst his mind worked through the angles. “There’s no guarantee they’d fall for it.”

Paul shrugged. “If they don’t we’ve lost nothing, but if they do, we’ll have them.”

Daryl looked to the others. “What do you think?”

“It could work,” Maggie said, her long legs stretched out in front of her. “If we plan it right, it could work.”

“Will Rick go for it?” Carol put the question out there.

Maggie spoke, “He will when he finds out about the fire. Liam caught me on the way in here, he found some chemicals beneath the remains of the trailer. Evidence that someone set the fire on purpose. We have no choice but to act, we can’t have someone sneaking around in the middle of the night trying to kill us.”

Fury twisted inside Daryl. The news only confirmed his earlier suspicions, but that did nothing to lessen his rage. They could have fucking died. He met Paul’s eyes, seeing the same anger reflected in the other man. They shared a moment before Daryl’s attention turned back to the conversation.

Sasha was giving her opinion. “I agree. Next time we might not be so lucky. This shit has been going on for long enough. There’s got to be less than twenty of them left out there. We have the numbers.”

“It ain’t that easy, it never is.” They’d all learn that the hard way.

Paul shook his head. “I never said it would be easy, but it’s better than the alternative. How long can we keep this up? We need to leave these walls some time. If we’re going to expand and get started on our plans for this place, we need to do it soon.”

For the next hour, they discussed Paul’s idea at length. Daryl mostly listened, offering a few ideas here and there. By the time the hour was up, they had all agreed that they at least needed to go to Alexandria with Carol and fill Rick in. If he agreed to their plan, they would go through with it.

Maggie and Sasha rushed off to deal with a problem, leaving the three of them in the study.

Daryl had his doubts that Rick would be up for it. He hoped he was wrong because he’d meant what he said to Paul a few weeks back. He wanted his brother back, wanted their relationship to be as strong as it had been before they’d heard the name Negan.

Carol waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you okay with leaving today? We were going to stay here another day or two, but we might as well leave. Get this set in motion.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “Not like we’ve got anywhere to stay here.” The reminder was like a kick in the balls. Paul’s trailer had become his home. Their home. They had made a lot of memories in there in the short amount of time they had been together. Letting go out it was more difficult than he first thought.

“Jesus?” she asked.

He nodded. “Good with me.”

“We’ll meet you at the gate in half an hour?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t like it was going to take them long to pack.

Carol left them, no doubt to round up the folks from The Kingdom. Daryl huffed out a breath, sitting his ass in an uncomfortable chair. He looked to Paul, sighing at the irresistible sight of him. “Why do all of your plans involve a shit load of danger?”

Paul walked over to him. “It’s a good plan.”

Daryl scowled, taking him by the hand and positioning him closer. Paul surprised him by sitting across his lap. “There are too many factors we can’t control.”

“You know, the more time we spend together, the more you sound like an anxious old man,” Paul teased, looping his arms around Daryl’s neck.

“You ain’t gonna be sayin’ that tonight.”

Paul ground his ass against Daryl’s thickening cock. “Is that a promise?”

“Yeah, it’s a promise. Missed that ass.”

“Pretty sure it’s been less than twenty-four hours since you had it last.”

“Too long,” Daryl said, crushing his mouth to Paul’s. The kiss centred him, gave him something to hold onto after the upheaval they had both been through. It also stopped him from obsessing about what Alexandria had in store for him.

He hadn’t given much thought to going back whilst Negan was still breathing air. Knowing he had to move on and doing it were two very different things. As long as he didn’t have to interact with the fucker, he would be fine.

The thought of seeing him, looking at that smug grin on his face when Glen, Abraham and so many other were dead because of him…it was hard to swallow. Might be impossible for all he knew. He had to try though, didn’t he?

“Where have you gone?” Paul murmured against his lips, his thumb stroking the back of Daryl’s neck.

Shit, he _had_ been obsessing about going back to Alexandria.

With Paul it was so easy to tell the truth. Even talking to Carol didn’t feel as effortless as talking to Paul no more. “Alexandria. What if I lose it?”

Paul gazed down at him, reeling him in with those soulful eyes. “We can stay here.”

The offer was appreciated, but… “I gotta go back there at some point. Might as well be for a reason. I just don’t wanna see Negan.”

“Then you don’t have to,” Paul said softly. “No one is going to make you and if they try, they’ll have to go through me.”

Daryl smiled at that. “My badass ninja?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I’m serious though. Talking to him won’t do anything for you. He’s an evil bastard who gets to rot in that cell. I know you don’t agree with keeping him alive, but it’s a fitting punishment. To go from what he was – or what he thought he was – to a man with nothing, that’s got to be killing him inside.”

“He could get out one day,” Daryl reminded him. That was what ate at him. Why should he have that chance when Glenn was never going to meet his child?

“I haven’t got an answer for that. All we can do it take it one day at a time.”

Daryl rested his head against Paul’s arm. “It’s better here. I can forget about it all for hours at a time. The war. Everyone we lost. Negan. Whether I see him or not in Alexandria, it’s gonna bring it all back.”

“I’m sorry, I should have talked to you about this before I said anything to the others.” Guilt seeped into Paul’s features.

Daryl straightened. “That’s not what I meant and I don’t want you to feel bad. I’m bein’ a baby.”

“You’re not,” Paul disagreed.

Daryl quieted, annoyed with himself for causing a fuss over something so fucking stupid. No matter what Paul said, he knew he was being an idiot. A coward. Avoiding Alexandria as if it that somehow made Negan less alive.

“Daryl, please stop. I’m getting pretty good at reading you, I know when you’re beating yourself up.” Paul tipped his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “If you’re going to start being an asshole to yourself, I’ll go and tell Carol we’re out.”

“You’re such a dick,” Daryl hissed, though he made no move to push Paul off of him.

Paul shrugged. “Don’t give a fuck if it means protecting you.”

“So you’re allowed to do that, but I’m not?” he asked. Paul had thrown his toys out of the pram when Daryl had protected him by looking for Tyr in the trailer. Now being an asshole was fair game?

“The only risk to myself in this situation is that you punch me in the face and I’ll take my chances with that.” They both knew Daryl would never attack him.

Daryl blew out an aggravated breath. “We’re going to Alexandria.”

“We’re only going if you promise to keep being honest with me. I don’t want you to bottle everything in because you think what you’re feeling isn’t valid for some reason. Everything that went down with the Saviours was fucked up and you had it worse than most, so you’ll be talking to me every step of the way.”

More talking?

“You’re so fuckin’ annoying.”

“I’ll take that. I’ve been called worse,” Paul grinned.

Daryl couldn’t resist him. Paul’s power over him was only growing each day. “Fine,” he bit out. “But when we start going on runs again, I’m gonna find you a muzzle.”

“Kinky.”

Fuck it. He gave up trying to spar with Paul, kissing him until he shut up instead.

After meeting up with Carol and the other at the gate, they left quickly. The Kingdomers drove up front, with Paul and Daryl bringing up the rear in a small blue Fiat. Despite the possibility of threat, Paul’s shoulders relaxed once Hilltop went out of view.

He loved the place, he did, but without runs or scouting trips to break up the passage of time, the walls became more stifling each day. Besides, it was nice to spend some quality time with Daryl. Tyr was in the back seat so Paul had christened it their first family vacation.

Daryl have given him the finger before starting up the engine.

It was only when they were an hour away from Hilltop that Paul realised Daryl hadn’t been to the infirmary to get checked out. They spent the next hour arguing about it until it fizzled out and Daryl promised he would tell Paul if he had any side effects or symptoms. Considering he had limited medical experience, he didn’t know exactly what he was suppose to do about it if Daryl did get sick.

But he let it go. Going back to Alexandria was already rough enough on Daryl without the added pressure of Paul staying mad at him. And he was finding that staying mad at Daryl for long was near on impossible anyway. He was greedy for Daryl’s affection, he much preferred kisses to arguing.

A few hours later they rolled through the gates behind Carol’s vehicle, slow and steady. Parking close to the entrance, they exited the cars. Tara was the first to greet them, giving them all hugs. “I’ve missed all you guys.”

He remained close to Daryl, ready to step in and offer any support the moment Daryl needed it. He seemed to be doing alright, though he was a lot quieter than Paul was now accustomed to. Daryl would never be the biggest talker, but over the last month he had opened himself up to Paul in a way he hadn’t expected.

Seeing him on edge, tense, was a reminder of how far they had come. Paul was proud that Daryl could relax around him. Share his fears with him. Look to him for comfort.

Paul waited for his turn, stepping into her when she approached him. She wiggled her eyebrows at him, making is ridiculously obvious she had clocked onto the fact he and Daryl were together. She whispered in his ear, “We’re talking later.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

“Come on, I’ll take you over to Rick’s.” Paul and the others followed her through Alexandria. A couple of people stopped them along the way, asking after Hilltop and The Kingdom. Tara hurried them along. Paul found it weird. Her earlier joy at seeing them had diminished a little, replaced with a tension he couldn’t explain.

Paul shot Daryl a look, conveying his concern. Daryl returned it, telling him they were on the same page. “How’s things here been?” he asked Tara as they walked.

“Good,” she said airily. Totally believable. If he were two years old. “How’s Maggie? The baby?”

Paul let her evade, he doubted they would have to wait long to find out what was going on. Selfishly, he prayed that it was nothing that was going to get in the way of their plan. Hilltop couldn’t go on much longer like they had been.

They reached Rick’s house. Whenever Paul visit Alexandria, it felt surreal, like he’s stepped back in time. Within the walls there was very little to suggest that the dead were roaming around outside. Hilltop had a similar vibe, but the scale of Alexandria blew them out of the water. The houses were enormous, established. No trailers in sight.

Despite all that, Paul was more comfortable at Hilltop. Growing up he’d been lucky to have shoes without holes in. Fancy places had always rubbed him up the wrong way. Barrington House had the same effect, but with dozens of people residing in it and the building being used for a multitude of purposes, the shine had been taken off it. 

Michonne walked through the door first. Paul was immediately drawn to the pronounced limp she had. There were a couple of bruises visible on her face. There was no time for anyone to ask questions, as she went straight into greeting them.

She hugged them all as Tara had, leaving Daryl last. “You’re here,” she beamed at him.

He shifted self-consciously, causing Paul to smile. “Yeah. What happened to your face?”

Her expression fell as she drew back. Opening her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by the door creaking open. Rick stepped through, lines of tension carved into his face. He looked like crap, Paul thought bluntly. There was no other way to put it.

What the hell had been happening in Alexandra?

Paul could tell Daryl and others felt it too, there was something in the air.

“It’s good to see you all,” Rick said, closing the door behind him.

“Wanna tell your face that?” Carol joked, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

Rick cracked a smile; it was gone in a second. Paul moved closer to Daryl without thought. They were a team; they could handle any news if they had each other to lean on. 

“What’s going on?” Carol demanded, evidently losing patience. Paul’s own alarms were on high alert, his instincts sensing that something wasn’t right.

“Rick?” Daryl pressed when the other man remained silent.

“Negan,” he looked to Michonne. “He’s dead.”

Paul’s stomach dropped from out beneath him.


	19. What the Hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update and I apologise for this chapter in advance. My motivation is low at the moment so this is not my best work!

“What the hell do you mean Negan’s dead?” Daryl spat out, chasing after Rick as he led them inside the house. “Rick!” he yelled when the man ignored him.

Michonne touched his arm. “We’ll tell you everything inside.”

Clamping his mouth together, he stormed into the house, Paul right behind him. The group followed Rick to the spacious kitchen. As soon as Daryl set food into the room, he looked to Rick expectantly. After everything they had been through over the last couple of months, the discord between them, he better have a damn good explanation.

Carol was just as impatient as him, the Kingdomers beside her, their body language tense. “What’s going on, Rick?”

He looked down, hand on hip as if he were trying to find the right words. “I killed him.”

Paul kept a restraining arm on Daryl, speaking before he could. “Why? What happened?”

Michonne glanced at Rick, something passing between them. “It happened a few days ago. Negan had been recovering from his injuries, we only moved him to the cell a couple of weeks ago. He was weak. Defeated.” She took a deep breath. “I took him some food and he was curled up on the bed – I thought he was dead. I went in the cell to check on him…” she trailed off. “He wasn’t dead. He slammed me against the wall, got hold of my knife and stabbed me in the thigh.”

Shit.

She continued, “He caught me off guard - I was preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied?” Carol asked, obviously asking herself the same question as he was. Michonne was tough, no way Negan could have taken her down easily.

Rick shifted beside her, lifting his brow at Michonne.

Daryl nearly fell on his ass when she said, “I’m pregnant. I just found out that morning, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have gone in there.” Rick curved his body around hers, the stance protective.

Despite the low mood, Paul offered them a sincere smile. “Congratulations.”

Her voice was shaky, her softer side showing itself. “Thank you. It hit us out of no where; we’re still processing it, but…” She didn’t have to say the words, the expressions on both of their faces said it all. They were happy and terrified. Pregnancy was risky. Lack of medicine, expertise and supplies were all a huge problem. Daryl only had to think back on what had happened to Lori.

But Judith was everything to their family. Rick and Michonne’s baby would mean just as much to all of them. He was happy for the couple, thrilled for them. He couldn’t wait to have another kid around, though it scared the shit out of him.

Rick just outright killing Negan? Daryl didn’t know what to say to that. “So after everythin’, all your talk about a better future, you just killed him?”

“Do you think I wanted to? I walked in and found Michonne bleeding on the floor, he was going to kill her. So yeah, I killed him first. I wasn’t losing anyone else to him.”

Daryl had wanted the bastard dead for so long, but now he knew that Negan had taken his final breath, there was an emptiness inside which he couldn’t explain. Why? It didn’t make one bit of fucking sense to him. He should be thanking Rick, not grilling him on his motivations.

If Negan had made a play for Paul the way he had Michonne, Daryl would have done the same thing. Still, it fucked their plan. Once word spread Negan was dead, there was no predicting what the Saviours would do.

“Does anyone know?” Diane asked, arms folded.

Rick shook his head. “Only the people we trust. Gabriel, Rosita, Aaron. We were coming to Hilltop by the end of the week, let you all know what’s gone on. We were gonna keep it quiet until then.”

Relief spread through Daryl. “Good.”

“Why? What’s going on? Why did you come here?” Rick asked.

Paul filled the couple in on the fire, their suspicions that the mole living at Hilltop had set it and their plan to draw the Saviours out. “We never really needed Negan to leave Alexandria, but if word got out that he was dead –“ he shook his head. “You were a cop, what do you think? Will the Saviours take the bait?”

“Maybe, they’ve been escalating for the last couple of months which tells me they’re getting desperate. They’ve gotta be struggling out there. The amount of energy they’re expending on us ain’t gonna leave them much time to get shit done. They probably think they’ll be living the high life again if they can get Negan out,” Rick answered.

“So you think they want Negan out for what he can give them, not because of a sense of loyalty?” Paul asked him.

“Negan’s methods were effective but most of his people were scared shitless of him. Following him because they felt they didn’t have a choice. They want him out because they need him, not because they like him.”

Carol spoke next. “Do we even need to do this? If they find out he’s dead, they might cut their losses and leave.”

“Or they’ll come after us for revenge,” Michonne said, limping to a round stool. “If they decide to do that, we still have no idea where they’re based. We’ll be in the same position we’re in now. If we go through with the plan, we’ll at least whittle their numbers down some more.”

Daryl had to agree with Michonne. After rolling with Negan for years, it was highly unlikely that they would turn tail and run. They were entitled, believed they were owed something from each one of the communities. If they were going to run, they would have already done it.

They also had to consider the fact they still didn’t know who was working with them. Daryl was convinced it was a ‘reformed’ Saviour, but they were all acting like fucking saints. No one had put a foot wrong in the last couple of months.

He was getting too old for this shit. Now he had found Paul, he wanted to spend a few lazy mornings in bed a week. Set some time aside to spend some quality time with each other. Running around after the fucking Saviours was getting old.

“We go ahead with it then,” Carol said.

Rick looked to Paul. “How do you want to do it?”

“Daryl and I go back to Hilltop and let slip that Negan’s being moved. Let out enough details that the Saviours will think they’ve got us.”

“If we make it too easy for them, they’ll figure out it’s a trap,” Daryl offered.

Michonne gave a thoughtful nod. “No matter how desperate they’re getting, they must have a few brain cells between them to have hidden from us for so long. We can’t underestimate them.”

“We won’t,” Carol said with confidence. Sometimes Daryl found it difficult to believe that she was the same woman he’d met just after the outbreak. The timid exterior had been shed, revealing a core of granite beneath. Now she did whatever was necessary to help the rest of them survive.

“We can figure out the details over dinner tonight,” Rick suggested. “We have a spare room here.”

Carol slid a sneaky glance at Daryl. “Daryl and Jesus can take it.”

Daryl knew exactly what she was trying to accomplish. She wanted him and Rick to make amends and she wasn’t being subtle about it. If he refused, he was just going to look like an asshole. “Fine with me.”

Tara directed her next worlds at Carol and the other from the Kingdom. “I’ll show you guys where you can stay. Are you ready to go now?”

Carol nodded. “Sure.”

They left with a round of goodbyes, promising they would be back for some dinner later. Once they were gone, Michonne eyes pinned Rick’s. “You gonna be cooking?”

His lips twitched. “I thought we could all pitch in.”

“I bet you did,” she said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. “I have a few things I need to take care of before I’m chained to the kitchen. I’ll see you guys later,” she said to Daryl and Paul, limping away.

Paul was the next person to ditch them. “I’m going to get our stuff from the car, say hi to everyone. I’ll be back soon.” He was gone before Daryl could protest. The asshole hadn’t even kissed him goodbye and now he was left alone with Rick.

He had planned on talking to him, clearing the air, but he didn’t appreciate Paul and Carol leaving him to fend for himself.

“You and Jesus seemed to be getting along well,” Rick said with a smirk.

Daryl bit back a smile. “Fuck off.”

“I thought there was something going on between you two when I was at Hilltop. I know you would have gone to rescue anyone the Saviours captured, but the way you ran off without any back up gave it away.”

“Wasn’t exactly a secret,” Daryl mumbled.

Rick looked at him, serious. “I don’t want to be the last to know what’s going on with you.”

“Getting’ right into it?”

He was good at fighting. Words? They always had him at a disadvantage and he hated talking about his feelings. Admitting when someone he cared about hurt him. It left him feeling vulnerable and hated it.

“No point in beating around the bush.”

Daryl exhaled, slowly. “I’m here and I didn’t know Negan was dead. I was ready to move on from it all.”

“I know. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t come here. I want Alexandria to be your home.”

He didn’t know how he felt about moving back to Alexandria. “It ain’t just me now.” He had to consider what Paul wanted and he thought that Paul would want to stay at Hilltop. He had helped build the community after all.

“Yeah, I get that. So are we going to be alright? Even if you don’t come back here permanently, I want us to get back on track.”

“We will,” Daryl said, “but it ain’t gonna happen all at once. I get what you wanted to do with Negan, what you want to build, but he deserved to die. He nearly destroyed us.” Daryl wasn’t just talking about the people Negan had stolen from them, but their will. Their morals. Their right to call themselves decent human beings. What they’d had to do to go head to head with him had turned their group into people he hardly recognised at times.

Rick got a faraway look in his eyes. “Maybe. That’s the reason he needed to live. If we had killed him, we would have taken that final step into the darkness. I can’t live like that anymore, Daryl. I need to be better than that. Especially now.” With another child on the way.

He thought about Rick’s word. There was truth in them. If Negan had won that fight, he wouldn’t have cared about who or how many he killed. Yeah, he needed some left to provide for him, but taking a life didn’t affect him.

“Where does that leave you now?” he asked, curious.

Rick’s jaw tightened. “I killed him in defence of Michonne’s life, my child’s life and now I’ve gotta live with that. Does killing him make me a hypocrite? Maybe, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the time.”

“I don’t blame you for doin’ it,” Daryl told him. He didn’t want Rick to be twisted up by Negan’s death. The man deserved some peace. “Going forward, what are we gonna do? If Paul’s plan works, what do we do with the Saviours?”

“I don’t want to make those decisions anymore, not on my own. We need to create a council of some sort.”

Daryl’s heart squeezed at Rick’s tone. Leading them this far had taken its toll on him, they could all see it and had selfishly ignored it in the name of survival. “You have enough good people here to put it together.”

“I want you on it,” Rick shot back.

“I told you, it ain’t just me anymore.”

“I hear you. I’m just asking you to talk it over with Jesus.”

Could they live in Alexandria? It would mean being close to the people he considered his family, allow him to watch Judith and the new baby grow up. “I’ll talk to him, but I ain’t promisin’ anthin’.”

Rick smiled at him. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

“Nope,” he answered, deadpan.

Laughter. “Asshole. I can’t believe you’re with Jesus. Do you remember when we met him on that run?”

Daryl thought back on the shitstorm of a day. “Yeah, he was such a pain in the ass. Still is.”

Rick wriggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

Cheeks heating, Daryl crossed his arms, realising what he just said. “Fuck off.”

They were going to be alright.

Things weren’t going to go back to how they were in a few days, but Daryl now had hope that their bond would become strong again. Rick and Michonne were family, they were the people he had chosen to be his family. He wasn’t going to let himself lose sight of that again.


	20. Quickie Before Dinner

Paul got back to Rick’s house at around four in the afternoon with Tyr on his heel. Leaving Daryl alone with Rick had been a little sneaky, but if Daryl had his way, he probably would have left their talk until five minutes before they were leaving Alexandria.

So he had just helped his boyfriend along. That was his job, right?

Walking into the house, he smiled when he found Daryl floor next to Judith, the child playing with some toy horses. A miniature motorcycle was in Daryl’s hands and by the looks of it, Judith wasn’t interested in it at all.

Daryl looked up as he approached. “You took your time.”

Paul lowered himself to the floor, delighted when Judith’s cute little hands went straight for his beard. She had grown a lot since he’d seen her last. It amazed him how much toddlers could grow in such a small amount of time. Soon she would be giving them all shit, testing the boundaries.

God, he really hoped that would be her future. Everything was so uncertain now. Once they overcome one obstacle, ten more took it’s place, but it was for her sake that they had to persevere and create a world worth living in.

“I ran into Aaron,” he told Daryl. By ‘ran into’ he meant that he had knocked on Aaron’s door and purposely entered into a lengthy conversation with him. He’d also introduced Aaron to Tyr, fetching him from the car which only served his purpose as apparently Aaron loved dogs.

“Hmmm.”

Taking hold of one of the toy horses, he glided it through the air for Judith. He could barely suppress the laughter when he asked, “So did you and Rick get a chance to talk?”

“No. Someone came and called him out to an emergency. Somethin’ to do with one of the walls.”

“What?” Paul blurted out, disappointed his plan hadn’t worked. Now Daryl was going to put it off, elongate the process when he should just get it over with.

Daryl smirked. “I’m just messin’ with you. Yeah, we talked. Didn’t have much of a choice after you abandoned me, did I?”

He wasn’t even mad Daryl was fucking around with him. “And? How did it go?”

Daryl shrugged, his answer for every question he wanted to avoid. “Good, I guess. We’ll be fine. Negan’s de –“ he looked at Judith, “Negan’s gone so there’s that. He wants to form a Council, he doesn’t want the responsibility of makin’ all the hard decisions.”

“Makes sense,” Paul thought aloud, “where it counts he’s a good man. Making the decisions he’d had to make, even if we’re talking just the ones he’s made in the war with Negan, they’re going to weigh heavily. I don’t blame him for wanting to find a way to shift some of the responsibility.”

Daryl hesitated. “He wanted me to talk to you. About moving back here. I’m not sayin’ I want to. I don’t really know what I want right now, except for you.”

Paul’s insides melted into goo. The feeling onto intensified when Judith’s arm went around Daryl’s neck and he held her close. “You can be incredibly sweet sometimes, baby.”

Cheeks reddening ever so slightly, Daryl said, “Yeah, well. I try.”

It was the opposite, Paul thought, the fact that he didn’t try. It came naturally to him when he forgot about being a hardened fighter. More and more, Paul was seeing that side of him and he loved it. “Do you want to live at Alexandria?”

“I dunno. I thought I was set to stay at Hilltop.”

“But?” There was one, Paul could tell by his tone.

“I miss them,” he said simply.

Then it was settled. It would be an adjustment, but he could make it work. “We move here.”

“But Hilltop in your home, Maggie needs us. I don’t wanna be selfish.”

Daryl really had no idea of the depth of Paul’s feelings for him. “You’re my home. As long as we’re together, I don’t care where we live. As for Maggie, we can stay at Hilltop until she has everything under control. Or split our time between there and here. We can make it work if you want to live at Alexandria.”

“I dunno,” Daryl said quietly.

Paul scooted closer, resting his hand on Daryl’s thigh. “We don’t have to decide anything right now. Once the Saviours are dealt with, we can think about it some more.”

Daryl leant over to kiss him. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Paul said against his lips.

Judith squealed. “Kisses! Me, kisses!”

Sharing a look of amusement, they both gave her a kiss on the cheek that had her curling bouncing in all directions as she clapped her hands. Spending time with her brought a pang to his chest. He had never thought too much about having kids, the prospect had always seemed so far away. As he spent the next hour playing with her, Daryl and the puppy, he realised with a jolt that it would be extremely difficult to have kids. Impossible if they wanted biological children.

Maybe it was too soon to be thinking about all of that. He and Daryl had only been together for a short amount of time, but watching Daryl with Judith was doing strange things to his heart. Daryl would be an amazing dad.

Rick and Michonne appeared, taking Judith for a walk before they all started preparing for dinner, leaving Daryl and Paul alone. His melancholy mood didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl. They had gone upstairs to wash up when Daryl caught his hand.

“What’s up?” he asked, walking them over to the bed.

Paul sat down, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.”

“Uh uhh, talk to me. You remember what a hard time you have me on the way here? If you get to pull that shit, so do I.”

“Urghhh.” He hated when Daryl used his own logic on him. “Don’t blame me when you freak out.” Daryl said nothing, just sat waiting for him to go on. “I was just thinking that if we wanted kids one day, it might not be a possibility for us anymore.”

He watched Daryl’s reaction, knowing it was weird for him to bring it up so soon. All he found was understanding. “Before all this happened, I didn’t think I was cut out to be a dad. Now that I’ve thought maybe it’s somethin’ I could want, it ain’t gonna happen.”

“Aaron has Gracie, I bet he didn’t consider that was going to happen,” Paul reminded him, reminded them both. “I don’t want to get caught up on it, it just hit me out of no where when I saw how good you were with Judith.”

“If it happens, it happens and if it don’t, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“And we have Tyr,” Paul said, looking at the puppy who had curled up in the centre of the bed. “He’s been pretty well behaved so far.”

“I was hopin’ he was gonna chew up some of Rick’s shoes.”

Paul laughed at the image. “Don’t encourage him. I wouldn’t want to have to kill Rick because he shot our dog.”

“I would never let him shoot the mutt,” Daryl said with a quirk of the lip.

Mood improved, Paul sat himself on Daryl’s lap, his knees either side of Daryl’s legs. “Hey,” he said close to Daryl’s lips, gently covering them with his.

Daryl’s hands went to his hips as he drew Paul’s tongue into his mouth, caressing it with delicate touches. “We ain’t got time…”

“I haven’t got time to kiss my boyfriend?” Paul asked with fake innocence.

Daryl bit into his lower lip. “I told you, we ain’t usin’ the word boyfriend.”

“I apologise,” Paul chuckled, running his hands down Daryl’s chest. “So I haven’t got time to kiss my man?”

“We don’t know when they’ll be back and I ain’t gettin’ caught like some damn teenager.” Despite his words, Daryl remained still, making no move to escape Paul’s advances.

Paul kissed his neck, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth. “But I can’t remember what you feel like inside of me, it’s been too long,” he complained shamelessly.

“You’re such a needy little fucker,” Daryl laughed, the sound music to Paul’s ears.

“Your fault,” Paul countered, shallowly thrusting his hips against Daryl’s. “Shouldn’t be so good at fucking me.”

“Thought you couldn’t remember what it felt like,” Daryl quipped back.

Shit, his cock was beginning to ache so much he could barely keep track of his teasing. “Well, if you don’t want me, I could just go take care of myself. My fingers might do the trick, but-“

His words were severed by Daryl’s lips. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was flat on his back with Daryl’s body covering his. In the fray, Tyr had jumped down from the bed and re positioned himself in front of the closed bedroom door. Now that Daryl was fully on board, he really hoped that the others didn’t come home too early.

Getting caught by Rick wasn’t on his list of things to accomplish, though he supposed the other man would think it was only fair after he had broken into bedroom and found he and Michonne in bed together. _Karma, do not come and bite me in the ass. _

Daryl rid them of their clothing with ease, filling Paul with excitement. Sure, he had been exaggerating about the length of time since Daryl had last fucked him, but it _did_ feel like it had been forever. His cocked throbbed and then jerked when Daryl took hold of him, testing. Teasing.

“You want me in that ass?” Daryl asked, his voice coarse with desire.

“Yes!”

Bending down, Daryl swirled his tongue around Paul’s nipple. It pebbled beneath his touch, but it wasn’t enough for Daryl. It seemed he was intent on teaching Paul a lesson. He spent a good five minutes playing with Paul’s nipples, leaving him straining for release.

Finally – blessedly – Daryl pulled back. “On your hands and knees.”

Paul did as he was told hoping it would get him some cock quicker.

“Hmmm,” Daryl hummed, running his hands over Paul’s ass, spreading the cheeks apart. “Changed my mind.” Daryl’s hand tangled in his hair, pulling with enough force to have Paul moving where Daryl led. He was guided to the wall. “Put your hands against it and don’t move them.”

Okay, so he fucking loved it when Daryl got all growly and dominant. Every cell in his body responded to that tone, readying itself for the extreme pleasure it knew it was about to receive.

Daryl’s hand left him for a few seconds. Paul wanted to turn around and look what he was doing, but he knew if he disobeyed him, Daryl was going to make him wait even longer. So he kept his gaze on the wall ahead like a good boy.

Daryl returned with his fingers coated in lube, wasting no time sliding them into Paul’s ass. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“You can’t wait for it, can you?”

“No,” Paul admitted, whimpering when Daryl added another finger.

“Lucky for you, neither can I.”

His fingers were gone in an instant, replaced with the head of his cock. Paul gasped when Daryl slid in, still amazed by the sensation. When Daryl was in this mood, there was no give. He took Paul with deliberate intention, denying him any form of control at all.

When the pressure was too much, Paul took one hand from the wall, trying grab hold of his cock. Daryl intercepted it, trapping the hand between their bodies, driving Paul even more insane.

“No touching yourself,” Daryl warned, slamming into Paul again, the angle hitting him just the right way.

A sob escaped Paul’s mouth, his cock desperate for relief.

“You have to be quiet,” Daryl said into his ear.

How the hell was he supposed to be quiet when Daryl was drilling into his ass so well?

“Please,” he begged, his cock needing some attention. “Please.”

Paul nearly came undone when Daryl’s hand fisted around his cock. He only managed to hold on for another ten seconds and then he was coming, the force of is stealing his breath away. Daryl quickly following him, his own breath choppy in Paul’s ears.

Paul slumped against the wall, his legs almost buckling beneath him. “You’re going to have to carry me to the bed.”

Daryl did just that. “You’re cleaning us up though.”

“That’s fair,” he conceded. His limbs were lethargic, but his mind was buzzing with energy. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah,” Daryl blew out a breath, collapsing beside him.

Paul glanced at him. “How are you doing with everything? Negan, dead. Being at Alexandria. Rick.”

Daryl turned onto to his side, so that they were facing each other. “I’m good. Havin’ you helps. Negan being dead? I ain’t come around to that yet. Gonna take some time. I’m okay though, I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Paul laughed at that. “I’m always going to worry about you.”

“You do know I’m older than you?”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m the responsible one in this relationship.”

Daryl raised his brows. “You think?”

“Definitely.”

“You just made me fuck you when Rick and Michonne could get back anytime with their toddler. Sure, you’re the responsible one.”

He had a point.

But he wasn’t going to get off so easily. “So you’re okay? Truly okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Paul studied him for a moment, decided that was the best he was going to get. He had to trust that Daryl would talk to him if he needed it. He was taking everything in his stride at the moment, but Paul had a feeling it was going to hit him soon. Negan’s death was a lot to process.

They lounged around for a little bit, as long as they dared, enjoying each other, cuddling and stroking. “What do you miss most about the way things were before?” Paul asked him.

“I…I’ve never really thought about it,” Daryl said slowly.

Paul came up on his elbow. “Really?”

“I just followed my brother around, doin’ stupid shit.”

He hated the self-deprecating tone Daryl used to talk about himself. “What did you do together?”

“One of his fuckin’ plans or another. I dunno. We did work on the bikes together, that was good. What about you?” he asked, running his fingers through Paul’s hair.

“It sounds dumb, but I miss music, just playing in the background, you know? Everywhere is so silent now. Just a lot of little things. Oh, and also I wish I didn’t have to consider the possibility I might die every time I step outside of a safezone,” he added with humour.

Daryl didn’t find it amusing. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I’m just kidding,” he soothed, gliding his hand up Daryl’s thigh. But he wasn’t though, was he? It did cross his mind every time he went beyond the walls.

Daryl brought him in for an embrace. “Neither of us are kicking it anytime soon.”

Paul was about to respond when Tyr barked, alerting them to movement in the house. Probably Rick and the others back. Time for clean up duty and then dinner.


	21. Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been focusing on my YOI fic for the past couple of weeks as I was neglecting big time!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a bit self-indulgent. I've been in a terrible mood and wanted to write some fluffiness.

Daryl couldn’t decide whether he loved or hated what was happening right now.

Dinner with his family.

Carol had turned up alone. The other Kingdomers had bowed out, giving their excused, but he thought that they probably wanted to give Carol some time alone with the rest of them. Aaron had joined them, bringing Gracie with him. The kids had been taken up to bed half an hour ago and were fast asleep.

He figured that some people had grown up with a big, rowdy family, but he wasn’t one of them. Most of the time he’d been lucky if he didn’t get a beating so he was overwhelmed and trying not to show it. Paul kept looking at him like he knew something was up, which was only adding to his discomfort. Why could the man read him so well? He wasn’t used to people knowing his mind.

Eating with them was nothing new; he had done it hundreds of times before. It was the setting, the atmosphere, the domesticity of it. They way Paul remained close to him, declaring to everyone they were a unit. It was everything he had always wanted and it was unnerving the hell out of him.

“You okay?” Paul asked, resting his hand on Daryl’s knee.

“Yeah.”

Paul raised his brows, mouthing ‘liar’.

Daryl’s lips twitched, but he just shook his head. Not like he could explain his fucked up head to Paul at the dinner table in front of everyone else. “Later.”

Paul nodded, squeezing his flesh. He turned his attention towards Michonne who was seated next to Rick. “So have you guys told many people about the baby?”

“A few. Someone,” she said, rounding her eyes on Rick, “doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to be going outside the walls.”

“It ain’t,” Daryl piped up.

She pinned him with a look. “I’m fully capable of handling myself.” _Shit, she sounded like Paul. _He could only sympathise with Rick. “Anyway, that meant I had to give an explanation as to why I couldn’t leave Alexandria.”

“How do you think Judith is going to handle having a sibling?” Aaron asked.

Rick gave a relaxed shrug. “She’s a good kid. She loved having Carl around.”

Daryl swallowed thickly at the mention of the boy. The pain was still fresh, lingering just beneath the surface. He knew from experience is would never fully heal. Losing Merle Beth – hell all the family they had lost along the way, could creep back up on him at any time. All it took was a familiar sensation to spark a memory.

“He would’ve been happy for you,” Daryl said to the couple.

Michonne gave him a watery smile. “Yeah, I think he would have been.”

He and Paul didn’t get to have their conversation later on. By the time Daryl fell into bed, he was exhausted. When he woke the next morning, his head was pounding and his head was full of cold. He’d had every intention of going out to hunt this morning, but the warmth of the bed and Paul’s presence next to him, combined with feeling sick, had him rolling onto his side and closing his eyes again.

The next time he woke, it was to the sound of Paul’s voice. “Daryl?”

Daryl forced his eyelids open. “Yeah?”

Paul brushed Daryl’s hair back from his face, leaning over him. “You don’t look so good.”

“Hmm, feel like shit. Head hurts. Nose won’t stop runnin’.” Not the most glamourous thing to admit to a partner.

Paul touched the back on his hand to Daryl’s forehead, frowning. “I think you have a temperature. I’ll go get you some water, ask Siddiq to come and have a look at you.”

“No,” Daryl protested, “it’s just a cold. I’ll get a few hours sleep.”

Paul remained unconvinced. “We can’t be too careful with sickness anymore. Please let me go and get him. I want to be sure it’s nothing serious. Please. I’ll ask Aaron to watch Tyr for a couple of hours.”

Daryl didn’t have the energy to argue. As long as Siddiq brought him some painkillers, he could come. “Fine.”

Paul gave his hand a quick kiss before jumping out of bed and quickly getting dressed. He left, promising to be back soon. Daryl managed to get to the bathroom to take a leak. He returned to bed, sweating from the exertion.

He was just nodding off again when Rick came in with a glass of water and some pills. “Jesus said you were sick. Had to come and see it with my own eyes.”

“Fuck off,” Daryl groaned, sitting up against the headboard, sneezing as he did so.

Rick chuckled, handing him the glass and pills. Daryl swallowed them down with the water. “Thanks. Paul is overreactin’, I’m fine.”

“Maybe, but the guy’s in love with you so he’s entitled to his worry.”

Daryl’s eyes slammed into Rick’s.

Rick cocked his head. “You haven’t figured that out yet?”

_Paul loves me?_

Did he?

Shit, his head was hurting so much that he didn’t have the brain capacity to think about it so he just shrugged.

Rick rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna let you off for now because you’re all kinds of sweaty and sick.”

“Just leave it alone,” Daryl grumbled. His relationship with Paul was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Scratch that, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Putting pressure on it with ‘I love yous’ was only going to fuck it all up.

“I will,” Rick said, heading towards the door. “But just so you know, not saying the words doesn’t mean the feeling goes away.”

Interfering asshole, Daryl thought as the other man left.

Five minutes later, Paul rushed in with Siddiq on his heels. He whipped off his coat, sitting on the bed next to Daryl in a flurry of movement that was difficult for his heavy head to track. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m fine,” he assured Paul. He looked to Sadiq, “Just a cold.”

Sadiq gave him a placating smile. “Probably, but there isn’t any harm in checking you out. Something that used to be simple and straightforward to treat, can cause problems now.”

Daryl couldn’t argue with that, not after what had happened at the prison. He answered Siddiq’s questions and sat through an examination with Paul by his side.

“So,” Paul asked with an anxious tone, “What do you think?”

Siddiq looked up from writing his notes. “Considering how quickly the symptoms came on, it’s highly likely you have the flu. You’ll feel horrible for a few days, but you should be back to normal within a couple of weeks. There’s not much to be done - drink plenty of fluids, rest and I’ll give you medication to reduce the aches and fever. Paul, you’re likely to get it too as it’s pretty contagious.”

Daryl looked to him. “Sorry, babe.”

“Shhh, I’m just glad it’s nothing too serious,” he said, his voice crumbling, along with his composure.

Concerned, Daryl took hold of his hand. “Hey, I’m okay.”

Sadiq excused himself, leaving him them alone. Daryl thought it was for the best because Paul looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

“Paul, I ain’t dyin’. You heard the doc, I’ll be back to normal in a week or two.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he nodded. “I know, I’m being stupid. I just…it scared me, Daryl. I was trying to wake you for a full minute and you weren’t responding to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hating to see Paul hurting.

“It’s not your fault. The fire is still fresh in my memory, I think that’s why I got triggered so easily. I just feel like the world is trying to show me how many ways we can lose each other.”

“You ain’t goin’ to lose me. I only just found you, you think I would let anythin’ tear us apart now?”

“No,” Paul said with a small smile. “I’m sorry, I’m being dramatic. You need to rest. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Yeah, if you want?”

“I always want to be around you.”

_Does he love me?_

The way Paul was looking at him right now, Daryl could believe that he did. Rick had been insinuating that Daryl was too scared to admit his love for Paul, but he was wrong. Daryl did love him. It was raw, so powerful that he wasn’t sure if he knew what to do with it.

The fear was that Paul didn’t love him back. When they were together like this, holding each other, lost in each other, Daryl was sure his feelings were reciprocated. But old insecurities were hard to shake. Maybe Merle had cared about him, but for the majority of his childhood, he hadn’t experienced any kind of affection. Growing up, that hadn’t really changed too much.

Did he just think Paul loved him because the man showed him a kindness that he’d rarely been gifted with before?

No, they talked about the future a lot. Paul wouldn’t do that if he didn’t feel something for him.

With the symptoms of the flu ravaging his body, he knew that thinking about it all now was pointless. He switched off his mind, settling his head on Paul’s chest, drifting off to sleep with Paul’s heartbeat filling his ears.

That evening Paul took a shower. As it was likely he was going to come down with the virus, he limited the amount of time he spent outside of their bedroom. Due to Michonne’s pregnancy, they should have probably left out of the house altogether, but Daryl wasn’t in a condition to be moved.

Tyr was staying at Aaron’s for a couple of day. They all thought it was best that he was out the way whilst Daryl was sick, and Aaron would be able to give him the attention that they couldn’t at the moment.

It had been a full time job making sure that Daryl had everything he needed during the day. Paul had woken him up a few times and forced some fluids down him, along with the pills to lower his fever. Daryl being Daryl hadn’t made it easy. He had been out of it and not at all cooperative.

Creeping back into the room, he checked on Daryl. He was in fitful sleep that broke Paul’s heart. Before meeting Daryl he’d had no idea that watching the person he loved in pain would be worse than experiencing it himself.

Spending the majority of his life alone had made him a little selfish in the way he had lived his life. He wasn’t a terrible person or anything like that, but as he had only ever had himself to rely on, he used to think that the worst things that could happen to him would happen _to him._

Turned out he was wrong. He would much rather be sick in Daryl’s place. He knew how to handle that, how to grit his teeth through the physical pain. Watching the man he loved wracked with violent shivers, tossing and turning, unsettled and struggling was something else altogether.

Deciding there was nothing he could do for the time being, he grabbed a book from the stack Rick had given to him earlier and started reading. Every now and again, he would wipe Daryl down with a cold cloth, only to start freaking out because his skin was so hot.

Eventually, he set the book aside. He had read the same page ten times, he couldn’t concentrate for shit. He turned onto his side, watching Daryl like some kind of creeper. His hair was slick with sweat, the covers tangled around the rigid muscles of stomach.

A soft knock at the door made him jump. Sighing, he padded across the room and found Rick on the other side of the frame. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s a little out of it,” Paul answered, rubbing his thumb over his aching temple.

Rick nodded. “Siddiq said that was to be expected. Carol came by earlier, she’s heading back to the Kingdom to let Ezekiel know what’s going on. She’ll be back with some firepower next week.” He paused, “How are you doing?”

Was it really that obvious that he wasn’t coping well with Daryl being sick? He felt like an idiot. He had been assured by the closet thing they had to a doctor that Daryl would make a full recovery and yet, he still couldn’t shake the unease. “I don’t like seeing him like. He’s strong, you know? Just reminds me that even if we survive the dead, there are still other things that can kill us.”

Rick looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I get that. I’m trying to be excited about the baby, but all I keep thinking is what if I lose Michonne? I broke when my wife died and I don’t think I could survive losing Michonne. Not after Carl.”

“I’m sorry,” Paul said, leaning against the doorway. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. There was always a part of me that was relieved that I didn’t have any family when it all went down. Being alone almost felt like a blessing for once in my life.”

“Maybe you were right about that.” A wry smile. “I don’t know. Without them… I don’t know what I’d be fighting for.”

Paul glanced back at Daryl. He definitely had a lot more fire in his belly since he and Daryl had started a relationship. He wanted to build a world where Daryl was free and safe to go out hunting for days with Tyr on his tail.

Rick surprised him by saying, “You’re good for him. He’s a huge part of this family and we all love him, but I think it’s good for him to be the centre of someone’s universe. No one’s ever showed him what that could feel like before.”

Paul smiled, though he was a little embarrassed by the observation. “He deserves it and I’m going to make him realise it.”

Rick’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Good. I’m happy for you both. Come find me if either of you need anything.”

“Thank, Rick. I’m glad you guys had a chance to talk everything over. It was bothering him more than he wanted to admit.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And Rick?” Paul called after him. “If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about being in a relationship, it’s don’t keep shit bottled up. Michonne would want to know if you’re worried.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess you’re right. Get some rest, you look like crap. Daryl will kill me if he wakes up and you look like that,” Rick said, walking away.

Paul chuckled, shutting the door behind him.

He settled back into bed beside Daryl. He pressed a kiss to his shoulder, praying that his man would improve fast. His heart couldn’t take another day of seeing Daryl like this.


	22. Weakness

“Fuck,” Daryl croaked, lifting a hand to his throbbing head. Forcing his eyelids open, he became accustomed to the low lighting. It was either just before dawn or dusk. It took him a minute to remember where he was, his mind a chaotic mess.

Alexandria. Rick and Michonne’s house.

He was weak as a baby, his limbs heavy and aching. How long had he been out of it? There were fragments of memories coming back, most of them including Paul acting like his personal nurse. Licking his dry lips, he searched the room for his man. He found the man laying next to him, dark circles beneath his eyes, dead to the world around him. No doubt he had been neglecting his own health.

Leaving him to sleep, Daryl attempted to push himself into a sitting position, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table next to him. With clumsy hands, he knocked the glass over, the sound jerking Paul from his deep sleep.

_Shit._

Paul shot up, blinking hard. “Daryl?”

“I’m here. Sorry, I knocked over the glass.

“You’re awake,” Paul said in relief, smiling at him as if he had just come back to life from the dead.

“Yeah,” he replied, a little self-consciously.

Paul caressed his cheek. “You’ve been out of it for days. Siddiq insisted it was normal, but I was worried.”

Daryl could see it in his eyes. He remembered Paul’s cool hands on him, caring for him. His soft voice singing to him. For once Daryl had been able to allow illness to sweep through him without a fight because he had trusted that Paul would watch over him. Keep him safe.

He also remembered being plague with nightmares, visions of Merle. Beth. Glen. Abraham. Sophia. Alive and dead. Seeing them had been both a blessing and curse. He wanted to remember them all, because that was the only way that got to live. But having to relive their deaths, having a mirror held up to his failures, had been more painful than the torture Negan had inflicted on him.

“Thanks for playin’ nurse, for stayin’ with me.”

“I wasn’t going to be anywhere else. Wait there, I’ll get you some water. You’ve got to be thirsty,” he said, leaving the bedroom in a hurry. He was back within a few minutes. In that time, Daryl had slumped back down the bed, sitting requiring too much energy. He took a few sips of water with Paul’s help, feeling like a helpless kid the whole damn time.

“Thanks,” he muttered. He was grateful for Paul’s help, but he was never going to like being so weak.

Paul set the glass down. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough,” Daryl admitted. It was becoming second nature to tell Paul the truth, instead of avoiding being honest with him like he did with almost everyone else. “What’s been goin’ on?”

They should have been back at Hilltop by now.

Paul sat down, crossing his legs, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Rick and a few of the others went over to Hilltop to fill Maggie in.”

“Rick went?” Daryl asked with a frown. There was no predicting how Maggie was going to take the news that Negan was dead. He suspected she might feel the same as him. Empty.

“Yeah. He isn’t back yet so she either killed him and hid the body or they’ve worked out their differences.” Or the Saviours had got their hands on him. Daryl doubted it; Rick was a stubborn motherfucker. He wouldn’t be caught easily.

“Shit,” Daryl said under his breath, a cough rattling through his lungs. “Michonne stay here?”

Paul nodded. “They both thought it was best. Carol left a couple of days ago, she’ll be back soon with some back up from Kingdom. By now everyone should think we’re moving Negan on Saturday.” Paul gave him a weird look as he finished speaking, causing unease to swell. Paul was rarely nervous, his self-confidence strong enough to get him through most situations.

Daryl studied him, trying to figure out what the other man wasn’t saying. “What day is it today?”

“Thursday.” Paul’s hesitation sat between them. He sighed heavily before speaking again. “Don’t get mad, I don’t want you to get worked up. Before Rick left, we decided that the trap had to be set soon. If we leave it too long, someone is going to work out that Negan isn’t alive anymore.” Daryl raised his eyebrow, silently communicated for him to continue. So far, he was on board with that “Well, Negan’s dead and we were never going to risk moving him anyway, so I volunteered to be him.”

“What?” Daryl demanded, shooting up.

“Calm down,” Paul told him, placing a comforting hand on his leg. “Look, someone has to do it. I’ll have a hood over my head, wear some of his clothes. I’m not as tall as he was, but we’ll clear the area, make it hard for anyone to get close enough to realise that I’m not him.”

Daryl’s blood pressure was rising steadily. Scratch that, it had skyrocketed. “No.”

“Daryl, its done,” Paul said in a weary voice. “We don’t have to talk about this now, you need to regain your strength.”

His tone left no room for argument. “It’s too dangerous.”

Irritation played across his lover’s face. “It’s probably the safest position for anyone to be in. They won’t be trying to kill me, they’ll be trying to kill everyone else.”

“Yeah and what if they capture you? As soon as they realise they’ve been played, they’ll kill you without hesitatin’.”

Paul scoffed at him. “I won’t let them get hold of me.”

“You’re not as invincible as you think you are! Fuck,” he shouted, though it came out weak, his throat still raw from the illness. “What have you all decided I’m doin’ without my input?”

Paul refused to meet his eye, instead focusing on some imaginary lint on his pants. “You aren’t doing anything. You’re in no condition to fight right now.”

Speechless. He was fucking speechless. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

Did Paul really think Daryl was going to sit on his ass when he was in danger?

Paul finally looked at him. “You’re sick and this can’t wait, Daryl. I get that you want to be apart of it, but we have enough people. You don’t need to be involved.”

Daryl sucked in a breath, battling with himself to keep his temper in check. Paul looked so damn tired and he knew it was because of him. He didn’t want to fight with him. “I ain’t being left out of this, not when you’re in the middle of it.”

It wasn’t his ego talking. He didn’t think he had to be involved in order for their plan to succeed. Maybe if Paul hadn’t volun-fucking-teered himself, Daryl could accept it. But Paul would be right in the centre of the fighting. He trusted the others to have Paul’s back, but if one of them made a mistake it would mean certain death.

“I thought we got passed this,” Paul said wearily. “I’m the best person for this job. If you trusted my skills, you’d realise that.”

“Fuck that,” Daryl countered. “I know you can look after yourself. Don’t make this about that, because it ain’t.”

Paul shook his head. “I just want this to be over, Daryl. I’m fed up of looking over my shoulder every time we leave one of the communities. Someone has to pretend to be Negan for this work.”

“Why does it have to be you?”

“I’m not backing out now. That’s not who I am.”

No, it wasn’t, he though. Daryl let it drop for now, but only because he could see the exhaustion pulling Paul under. He had been looking after Daryl for days and needed rest; they could argue about this later on. “Come here.”

Paul crawled beneath the blankets, settling in next to him. Daryl cocooned Paul in his arms, holding onto him like a lifeline. He desperately needed to shower, but Paul didn’t seem to give a shit so neither did he.

Soon Paul was asleep, his breath coming softly, tickling against Daryl’s bare chest. Hadn’t Paul just been on his case about walking into fucked-up situation? Paul had painted a target on his back without discussing it with his partner. Double standards if he had ever heard them.

Drawing out a long breath, he tried to force himself to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, it didn’t come.

All he saw every time he closed his eyes was Paul laying in a pool of his own blood, dressed in Negan’s fucking clothes. 

A couple of hours later, Paul was walking beside Aaron, giving Tyr some exercise. After three days of refusing to leave Daryl’s side, confined to their bedroom, he needed the fresh air and a respite from Daryl’s relentless dark mood. He should have kept his mouth shut about his role on Saturday. At least until Daryl had regained some of his strength.

“You’re quiet,” Aaron commented, flicking a glance over to Paul. Gracie was on his back in a carrier. Paul was happy to see them together, aware that she was probably the only thing preventing Aaron from spiralling into a bottomless pit of grief after Eric’s death. And the baby deserved a loving home; Aaron could give that to her.

“I was an idiot and told him what was happening Saturday. He didn’t take it well,” Paul said dryly. Falling asleep in his arms had been just what his tired body had craved, but as soon as they had woken, Daryl had been distant, constantly scowling at him.

Aaron nodded slowly. “I can imagine. He’ll come around.”

“He won’t,” Paul disagreed. Daryl’s stubbornness ran deep. “If the positions were reversed, I would be worried too, but I would trust that he could get the job done. I can’t help but feel he doesn’t see me as an equal. I was always an annoyance to him before we started having sex. Maybe he still thinks of me like that.” It was easy to confide in Aaron, they had similar personalities. He could count on the other man to tell him straight. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Daryl was close with him so he would get that perspective too.

“I don’t buy that,” Aaron said. “I haven’t known his as long as Rick and the others, but Eric and I formed a strong bond with when he first got here. He loves you, whether or not he wants to admit it to himself. I think he’s still grappling with that and what it would mean if he did lose you. And he’s a natural born protector.”

“Why can’t he just say that to me? He going to sulk about it for the next two days, and do what the hell he wants anyway.”

Aaron chuckled. “That’s called being in a relationship. It isn’t the worst thing in the world to have the man you love worry about you,” he said more seriously.

Paul inwardly cursed at himself. “I’m sorry, I’m being insensitive.” Moaning about Daryl when Aaron had not long buried the love of his life. God, he was such an asshole.

“No, I like that you talk to me about this kind of stuff. It gives me a distraction, along with this little one,” he said, playfully capturing Gracie’s feet in his hands. “I like to think I’m an easy-going guy, but the moment Eric was in danger, a switch turned inside of me. He wasn’t as skilled as you, but by the end he knew how to take care of himself. Didn’t stop me from driving myself crazy with worry. And then the worst happens and it…it just destroys you. No amount of worrying prepares you for that feeling. Cherish the time you have together, all the other shit, it doesn’t matter.”

Paul knew his friend was right. If, God forbid it, one of them did die, he didn’t want their last words to each other to be in anger, stemming from fear of losing each other. That didn’t make sense. He wanted Daryl to know that above all else that he was loved.

“Why is this love thing so hard?” he groaned.

“Because we’re complicated creatures. We always have to create problems where there shouldn’t be any. You and Daryl are more complex than most.”

Paul’s lips lifted. “So you’re saying that we’re doing this to ourselves?”

“Yep,” Aaron answered. “Our current situation doesn’t help at all. You and Daryl always seem to be ones putting yourselves up for the frontline action.”

“Because we’re good at it.”

“I can’t argue with that, but it doesn’t always have to be you. You’re apart of this community no matter what you do for it.” Daryl had said something similar to him before. As if he were trying to earn his place by putting himself forward for the riskiest missions. It wasn’t that, not this time. It was simple; he had the skills to evade the Saviours.

“I’ll talk to him about it again later, I just needed a break. Did you know he sulked that much?”

Tyr barked up ahead, chasing after a bird who had dared to land a metre or so in front of him. Smiling at the scene, Aaron shrugged. “No, I guess not,” he said, frowning Eugene when he moved to open the gates.

“Tyr, here,” Paul called. Luckily, the puppy did as he was told and returned to Paul’s feet.

They watched as Eugene opened the gates, a familiar car rolling through at a slow pace. Rick was in the driver’s seat with Rosita next to him and Tara in the back. Parked a little inside the gates, they exited the vehicle.

“So you’re alive,” Aaron said as the group walked towards them.

Rick’s lips quirked with amusement. “Just about. Maggie nearly took my head off, but I think she’s just glad he’s dead at this point.”

They all were. Negan belonged in the past. “Any trouble with the Saviours?” Paul asked.

Rosita answered. “No. Maggie said it’s all been quiet there since the fire too. She’s going to send a few people over to help that she can trust, spread the word to everyone else that he’s being moved. Hopefully, they take the bait. I can’t stand much more of this shit.”

Rick put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. He looked to Paul. “How’s Daryl?”

“Better. Lucid. He was sleeping when I left him. I told him what was going down in a couple of days,” Paul told them.

Rick raised his brows. “How did that go?”

Paul just sighed.

“I told you he wasn’t gonna like it,” Tara sang, way too happy about being right.

“Yeah, well, he’s not my dad.” Not like his dad had ever told him what to do. He had been dumped into the system too early for that.

Rosita whistled. “Jesus, laying down he law.”

Aaron laughed at that. So did Rick. “Good news is that we’re all set. As long as everyone makes it here on time, we’ll have the numbers. I’m going to check in with Michonne. We’ll meet tomorrow morning, work out the kinks.”

Rick walked off, leaving them with Rosita and Tara. “He looks better,” Paul commented, like a weight had been lifted from the man’s shoulder.

Tara stared after him. “Yeah. I really thought Maggie was going to hit him. He would have let her, but by the end of our time there, they were more civil than I’ve seen them in months so that’s progress. He brought up the idea of a council and she liked it.”

“It’s a good idea,” Paul commented. He had heard Rick speak about it before he had left. “I’m glad they’re going to work on mending their relationship.” Maggie deserved some peace, they all did. But Maggie most of all.

Paul missed her more than he thought he would which had him thinking about permanently moving to Alexandria. If they left Hilltop, he would make sure he visited a lot to visit her and the baby.

“Me too. I’m out guys, I need a shower,” Tara said, taking off in the direction on her house.

“Same, I’ll see you both tomorrow?” Rosita asked, stopping to give Gracie a kiss on the cheek.

“Sure,” Aaron replied. He glanced at Paul. “You going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” he said with a confidence that he didn’t feel. “I’m going to walk around with Tyr some more, he could do with some more exercise so he doesn’t start jumping all over Daryl the moment we get back.”

Aaron nodded. “I’ll see you later. Just be honest with him; it’ll work itself out.”

Paul watched him walk away, giving his words consideration.

_Be honest with him. _

It was about time he told Daryl that he loved him, right?


	23. Confessions

Daryl couldn’t avoid it any longer; he needed to shower. He had been staring up at the ceiling for the last hour, since he had woken to find Paul gone. Daryl couldn’t blame him too much. Things had been tense between them when they had awoken from their nap the first time around.

He couldn’t help it. The more he thought about how Paul had just gone ahead and volunteered himself for something like that, the darker his mood became. The fact that the had all decided that he was next to useless only made it worse.

No point in stewing about it for another hour smelling like crap.

Heaving himself out of bed, he padded across the floor, taking stock of his condition. There was still a lingering exhaustion and weakness, but he did feel more human than when he had emerged from his fever this morning. It would be dark soon, he guessed. The natural light was fading, leaving behind shadows. Daryl gathered up a few supplies to take into the bathroom, startling when Paul entered the room whilst he rummaged through the drawers for a fresh set of clothes.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder to find Paul frowning at him. “What?” he asked unceremoniously.

“You’re out of bed,”

“Can’t lay around forever,” he replied curtly.

Paul crossed the room to him. “Are you going for a shower?”

Daryl reluctantly nodded. Paul was trying to be nice, but it was only agitating him more. He wouldn’t be in this fucking mood if Paul consulted him on important shit.

“Let me help you,” Paul said, taking the clothes out of Daryl’s hands without asking. Daryl glared him, snatching them right back. Paul’s brows arched. “Mature.”

Daryl ignored him, heading towards the bathroom. The rest of the house was quiet. A little while back he had heard Rick’s voice.

Paul followed him, stalking closely behind. When Daryl went to shut the bathroom door behind him, Paul’s foot obstructed the action.

“Mature,” he spat out, throwing Paul’s word back at him.

Paul shouldered his way into the room and closed the door with a soft click, locking it. “You look like you’re about to fall over, I’m not risking you collapsing in the shower because you’re too stubborn to ask for my help.”

There was no way he was going to admit how weak his body still was, not whilst they were in the middle of argument. Was it even an argument? Shit, he didn’t know. He said nothing and started to strip. If Paul had nothing better to do than watch him shower, then that was his problem.

Naked, he switched on the shower, waiting until the water warmed up. He blocked out the dizziness, stepping into the cubicle, aware of Paul’s concerned gaze tracking his every movement. For the next couple of minutes he tried to keep upright, swearing when the shampoo bottle slipped out of his hands and onto the floor with a thud.

Before he could bend over to pick it up, Paul was entering the stall without a stich of clothing on him. Silently, he reached for the shampoo and squirting a generous amount into his hand. He lathered it in Daryl’s hair, getting soaked under the steady stream of water.

Despite his frustration towards Paul, Daryl leaned into his gentle carsess, the lure of being fussed over too much for him to overcome. Giving into that feeling was as natural as breathing when he was with Paul. There was nothing sexual about the way Paul touched him. It was comforting, tender, but also competent and practical.

It was Paul.

Daryl let himself be taken care of, his eyes closing as his hair was washed. Once that was done, Paul moved onto the task of soaping up his body from behind as Daryl braced his hands against the wet tiles. His lover’s hands skated across his skin in soothing motions, cleaning away the grime of his sickness.

Giving into the urge that had taken root deep inside, Daryl spun around and drew Paul into his arms. A tremor shook through Paul’s body at the contact, showing Daryl just how much the other man had needed it. Why the hell was he so mad at Paul again? He had forgotten, the reasons running down the drain with the dirty water.

The combination of the shower and Paul’s careful attention had relaxed Daryl’s tense muscle. His anger had gradually dissolved and all he wanted to do was forget the Saviours existing.

They dressed in some sweats and returned to their room with an easy silence between them. Daryl eyes lit up at the sight of Tyr curled in the centre of the bed, snoring softly. He had missed the pup.

“He must have snuck in whilst we were in the bathroom,” Paul murmured, kneeling on the bed, stroking Tyr’s head. “Missed his dad. Come and lay down, I’ll sort our things out later on.”

Because he was struggling, Daryl lowered himself to the bed, rubbing Tyr’s belly when the dog’s eyes opened. He bounded up, excited. Daryl played with him for a few minutes before he settled down again.

“We need to talk,” Paul said, his words sending a shiver of fear down Daryl’s spine. Had Paul had enough of his moods? His inability to function like a normal human being? Enough of taking care of him? Of dealing with his shit?

“I went out walking with Aaron earlier and he reminded me what is important.”

“Survival?” Daryl guessed. Survival had been all that had mattered for so not. For Daryl, it hadn’t necessarily been about his survival. Once he chose to accept Rick, Carol and the others, his mission had become keeping them alive.

A ghost of a smile touched Paul’s lips. “No.”

“What then?”

Paul met his eyes. “Us.”

Daryl stilled, a strange sensation gripping at his heart.

“I was venting to him. It took me a few minutes to realise how selfish I was being. He’s lost the love of his life. It put things into perspective – we don’t know how much time we have together, but what we have, I don’t want to spend at odds with you. I’m not going to go back on my word, but I am sorry that I didn’t discuss it with you first. I should have. I guess I’m just used to making my own decisions – I’ve never really had to consider anyone else before.”

That was something Daryl related to. “I get that.”

“I know you do,” Paul said gently. “I don’t want distance between us. I’d be mad if the roles were reversed so I can understand your reaction, but it hurts when you shut me out. When you look at me like I don’t mean anything to you.”

_What?_ “Paul, you mean everythin’ to me.” How did he not know that by now? It was a question Daryl had asked himself more than once. Was he that much of an asshole that he didn’t show Paul how much he cared?

“Do I? I hate how needy that sounds, but I…I just need to know where I stand with you because,” he said, swallowing thickly, “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone before, maybe I loved my parents at one point before I was put into the system, but I can’t remember it now.”

The vulnerability Paul showed flayed Daryl from in the side out, the confession rocked through him, detonation all kind of emotions. “You love me?” Daryl asked, the broken parts of him needing the confirmation.

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked, ducking his head. People didn’t just fall in love with him.

His head was titled upwards by Paul’s fingers on his chin. “Do you want me to name all the reasons?” When Daryl stared at him blankly, Paul spoke, “Your smile. Your protectiveness. Your innate kindness. Your ass,” he chuckled. “Your strength. Not your physical strength, but the strength you have inside. Do I need to continue?”

Daryl shook his head. He didn’t see those traits; having Paul say them aloud to him made him feel like a fraud.

“Daryl? I need you to say something. You’re leaving me hanging here. I don’t expect you to feel the same way –

Daryl snapped his head up. “Of course I fuckin’ love you. I wouldn’t be actin’ like such an asshole otherwise.”

Shit, he hadn’t intended to confess his love like that. Couldn’t he get anything right between them?

Paul was staring at him, his expression unreadable. Slowly, the tension drained out of him, relief and joy battling it out on his face. “I think we need to work on our communication,” he laughed.

“Yeah,” Daryl rasped. 

“You really love me?” Paul asked, the amusement leaving his face, replaced with something more serious.

It gutted him that Paul needed the reassurance as much as he did. It revealed the extent to which his past, growing up without a family, had knocked his self-belief.

He took hold of Paul’s hand, noting the tears gathering in his eyes. “I love you. I don’t have fancy words to tell you a thousand different ways.” He wished that he did because Paul deserved that. “I love you.”

When the tears fell, Daryl kissed them away. “No one’s ever said the words to me before.”

Had anyone ever said them to Daryl either? Maybe his friends had, but hearing from Paul’s mouth had altered him in a way that he couldn’t explain.

“You want me to tell ya all the time?” Words weren’t his forte, but he would give those words to Paul every hour of every day if he wanted them.

Paul let out a watery laugh. “Maybe.”

“I can do that,” Daryl promised him.

“And I won’t be making any more potentially dangerous decisions by myself.”

Daryl pinned him with a hard stare. “Too fuckin’ right.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “That goes for you too.”

“Fine with me. We have each other to consider now, I ain’t gonna do anything that hurts you.” And getting himself killed would leave Paul alone again. No way that was happening. So he had to stay alive.

A little while later, Paul was laying snugly in Daryl’s arms, his gravelly voice quiet against his ear. “ You know, the chances of someone mistakin’ you for Negan are slim.” 

“We’ve got it figured out,” Paul said, trying to decide whether to shoo Tyr out of their bed. He had someone gotten himself under the cover, his body settled close to Paul's belly. “Most of the people acting as the escort know I’m not him anyway and no one else will get close enough to inspect me in any great detail. Maybe it won’t matter- as long as they take the bait, we’ll already have them in our trap.”

“Still, even with a bag over your head, you look nothin’ the bastard. You’ve got a perfect ass. If they get a good eyeful of you, they’re gonna know.”

Paul suppressed a laugh. “And you think the Saviours will be looking at my ass to determine whether I’m Negan or not?”

“Not if I have anythin’ to say about it.”

“You’re not going to stay out of the fighting, are you?” Paul asked, resignation in his tone. He couldn’t command Daryl to stay out of it as much as he wanted to. They would have to make the best out of a bad situation.

“Babe, there’s no way I’m missin’ this fight. For some reason, we’ve taken the brunt of their shit. Gettin’ shot at, the trailer burnin’ down. I wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole workin’ with them gave me the flu on purpose,” he joked. “And I ain’t leavin’ your side.”

“Daryl.”

“Accept it,” he told Paul. He brushed a kiss across Paul lips.

A sigh. “ You’re going to drive me crazy for the rest our lives, aren’t you?”

“I’m sure you’ll repay the favour,” Daryl gave a low chuckle. “So once this is done, what do you wanna do?”

Sleepy, Paul buried his head into the pillows. His damp hair was bothering him a little, but he was way too comfortable to move. Daryl’s body was like a furnace, keeping him warm. “Figure out where we want to live would be a good start.”

“We could split our time between Hilltop and Alexandria,” Daryl suggested.

Paul thought about it. “I don’t know. I kind of want a home we can make our own. I’ve never had that before. After everything we’ve been through, I think that would be a perfect way to start our lives together.”

“I’d like that too,” Daryl replied, almost inaudibly. From what Daryl had told him of his childhood and the years after, his family hadn’t provided any kind of stability. Neglecting him. Beating him. Paul wanted to give Daryl the opposite – love and joy.

He could see their home. A cabin in the woods with a wrap around porch. With the walkers dying out from starvation, the dream didn't seem so ridiculous as it once had. They could set up a few defences, train Tyr to warn them of intruders. Paul could see it so clearly. 

Was it too soon to think of marriage?

Paul was aware it didn’t count for much anymore, but it would mean something to both of them. For two people who had never had anyone else to call their own, it would mean the world. The only reason he hadn’t asked Daryl yet was fear of rejection.

Yes, Daryl loved him – Paul was still reeling from that – but most people would consider a few months of dating to be too soon for marriage. Daryl could be one of them. Paul doubted it as the man rarely gave a fuck what anyone else thought, but as long as there was a chance he could say no, Paul was too chicken shit to ask. 

He honestly didn’t think he could handle that kind of rejection from Daryl.

Why would he say no?

Paul pushed the matter to the side. He wasn’t going to think about it again until the Saviours had been dealt with. If he got so much as a scratch on him, Daryl would erupt as savagely as nuclear explosion. He needed to have his focus solely in the game for the next couple of days.

With Daryl’s strength surrounding him, Paul let his mind drift, his lover’s soft snores filling him with comfort. Sleep soon took him under, the steady beating of Daryl’s heart against his back following him.

_BOOM!_

As an explosion rocked through Alexandria, Daryl rocketed up, his hand instinctively reaching for Paul. Relief splintered through his body when he made contact, Paul sitting up too.

“What the fuck was that?” he heaved, only making out Paul’s general shape in the darkness.

“Something really fucking bad,” Paul answered, his tone grave. 


	24. Attack

Paul dressed quickly, heart stuttering inside his chest as gunshots sounded through the night. There was no doubt in his mind. Alexandria was under attack and from the noise coming from outside, their enemies possessed some heavy-duty weaponry.

He glanced at Daryl, worry seeping into his bones. He was barely recovered; under no circumstances should he be running into battle. Unfortunately, it would be a waste of time and energy to try and stop him.

The second they were clothed and armed, Daryl with his crossbow and Paul with his knives, they rushed downstairs, running into Rick and Michonne on the way. Rick had a radio in his hand, Rosita’s distorted voice coming out all broken up.

“…breached the gates. Grenade...Fuck! Walkers coming…shit.”

Paul swore, catching enough of her words to understand that they were facing a dire situation. They all shared anxious look.

“It’s gotta be the Saviours,” Rick said hurriedly. “Whoever it is, doesn’t matter. We’ve got to get to the gate and defend it. If walkers over power us, we’re fucked. Michone - ” 

“Don’t even say it,” she warned, holding up her hand.

“Someone needs to stay and watch Judith. If they get passed us…” he trailed off. If they managed to get by their line of defence, Alexandria could fall. They wouldn’t give it up without a fight, but they were all aware that survival came first.

“Fine,” she agreed. Bunching his shirt into her hands, she pulled him in for a quick, heated kiss. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Take care of yourself and our children,” he said, his hand lingering on her flat stomach.

Leaving them to have a moment, Paul took the opportunity to pull Daryl away for a moment. “Can I convince you to stay with her?” It had only been hours since he had barely been able to stand without assistance. Paul was seriously considering knocking him out and locking him in a safe place until the danger had passed.

“Don’t,” Daryl said with a bite of frustration. “I told you, I ain’t leavin’ your side.”

Paul shook his head. Why did he have to fall in love with such an obstinate man?

“Just stay close to me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Daryl muttered, unhappy about being coddled. Tough shit, Paul thought.

Paul caught his hand, clamping his fingers around it. “I’m serious, Daryl. We both know you’re not at your best. Please do as I ask.”

“I said I was gonna stay by your side, didn’t I? We can watch each other’s backs.”

Another loud bang split through the air, drawing all of their attention. Michonne hurried back up the stairs as Judith started to cry. They left the house, urgency increasing their speed. Following Rick, they sprinted towards the front gate.

Aaron flagged them down when he came out of his door. “What’s going on?” he asked, jogging towards them.

“Take Gracie to my place. Michonne is there with Judith. Come meet us at the front gate, we’re under attack,” Rick told him, barely slowing down. With a worried expression, Aaron ran back into his house.

Paul’s chest tightened when the gate came into view. It was destroyed, misshapen chucks of metal strewn across the ground. Walkers were piling in. In the darkness of the night, it was hard to tell how many there were. Paul thought about two dozen or so, but more would follow.

Scanning the area, eyes adjusted to the low light, he searched for signs of the Saviours or Rosita. According to Rick she had been on watch with Tyler, a green eighteen years old, eager to learn everything he could from her.

Where the hell were they?

In front of them there was a sea of the dead, their distinctive slow movements and sounds making them easy targets.

Rick rounded on him and Daryl. “Stay here. Kill as many as you can. I’ll go and find Rosita and the fuckers who blew up the gate. Anyone I find, I’ll send them this way to help.” With that he was gone.

All they had to do was hold the line until others came to help. Sounded simple. It would have been if Daryl was at full strength. Paul might have even enjoyed the challenge under different circumstances. But as he looked at Daryl, he was reminded how much the other man meant to him. One mistake and he could be dead.

His eyes met Daryl’s, asking the silent questions. Could he handle this? Was he strong enough? Daryl inclined his head. Paul expected nothing less, but still he hesitated to engage. Once they took those final steps forward, there was every chance one or both of them wasn’t coming back out.

In the end Daryl gave him no choice. He advanced, Paul following immediately with his knives out. Daryl let a bolt loose, sending it sailing into a walker’s head. It fell to the ground, the body providing an obstacle for the other behind it and they tripped over it, one by one.

Paul burst into action, his knife embedding in skull after skull. Killing walkers had become second nature to him. When he had first realised what had happened, Paul had been horrified and reluctant to kill the body that had once been human. Along the way, he had separated the two things in his mind. The parts that had been someone’s mother, father, sibling, grandparents, were gone.

Now it was difficult to remember that they had once been people. They were skin and bones with dirty clothes hanging off their skeletal frames. Catching glimpses of their dead eyes, he made a mental note to remind himself that once they had dealt with the situation at hand, he was making sure Daryl promise never to let him become one of those things.

Soon the bodies began piling around them. Daryl was holding up, but the physical toll was beginning to take effect on both of them. Paul was winded so he knew Daryl had to be struggling. They just had to keep moving, keep their aims true. Get rid of as many of them as they could until help came.

Paul stayed close to Daryl. He risked a glance, terror injecting into every cell when Daryl stumbled, a walker throwing him off balance. He watched helplessly as his man attempted to regain his equilibrium and then in horror as Daryl tumbled down, walkers falling on top of him.

“Daryl!” he yelled, his voice raw from panic. His body went into autopilot, his years of training in various fighting styles kicking in. He moved without thought, allowing instinct to take over and obliterate the obstacles between him and Daryl.

He lunged to the spot Daryl had gone down and heaved two walkers off him. Blood thundering in his ears, Paul assessed him for injuries, disregarding his own safety. What the hell did it matter if he lost Daryl anyway?

Daryl shook his head. “Didn’t get me.”

Too fucking close.

Paul dragged him up, taking stock of the situation. More of the dead were coming through the gates, though their numbers did seem to be dwindling. In the distance, he thought he could see of few members of their community coming to their aid with Aaron leading them. 

He was just about to open his mouth to shout them over when something slammed into his body.

One moment he was on his feet and the next, pain had detonated in his shoulder and he was sprawled on the cold ground. He must have lost some time because the next thing he saw was Daryl’s face inches from his own.

“Paul? Paul! Stay with me. Shit,” he rushed out, pressing his hand down on Paul’s shoulder. Had he been shot? People did that in movies when their friends had been shot, right? “Aaron, take that fucker out!” It was only after Daryl spoke the words that Paul understood they were still being shot at.

Something was wrong with him. He could barely keep track of what was happening around them. Walkers. Aaron. Tara. Other Alexandrians. Pain. Exhaustion.

He tried to sit. Daryl pushed him back to the ground. “Stay down, babe.”

He liked it when Daryl called him babe. He should do it more often.

“Paul, look at me,” Daryl commanded, sounded extremely serious. Desperate. Worried by his tone, Paul tried his best to do as Daryl asked, eyes going wide at the streak of blood that had appeared on Daryl’s forehead.

“You’re hurt,” Paul whispered.

Tears clung to Daryl’s eyes. “No, Paul. You’ve been shot by a Saviour. You’ve hit your head too. Just stay - ” he looked over his shoulder, saying something Paul couldn’t hear.

What was happening?

Daryl said he had been shot. Shot. That didn’t make sense, they had been fighting walkers. The dead couldn’t pick up a gun and shoot him. Huh, that would be weird if they could.

“Paul! Focus on my voice,” Daryl told him. He was so bossy. Most of the time it was hot, but not when the man was screaming in his face. “Need to get him to Siddiq. He’s losin’ too much blood. Can’t concentrate for shit. Did you get him?”

Get who?

Another voice replied. “He’s down. I’ll take him. You can barely keep yourself up. Cover me, the others can stay here and take care of the rest of the walkers.”

“Fine, just hurry up.”

Fire lanced up Paul’s arm as he soared through the air. No, he wasn’t flying. Flying wouldn’t hurt so damn much. He was being bounced up and down, the movements jarring his body into a place filled with agony. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from crying out, his mind only beginning to process what the hell was happening. 

He had been shot.

By the time the knowledge had finally began to sink in, he was already floating away.

Enraged and terrified, Daryl was on high alert as he led Aaron through Alexandria. They had to get to the infirmary fast. Paul was in a bad way and Daryl was barely hanging on by a thread. Why hadn’t he seen the fucking Saviour?

Paul had been so focused on making sure that nothing happened to him, his focus hadn’t been on protecting himself. They had both forgotten that there were other threats out there. Fucking Saviours!

He was going to kill them, all of them.

He could barely think as they raced through the town, his attention torn between a now unconscious Paul and keeping an eye out for any new threat. His hands were shaking as he tried to keep his crossbow steady and his fingers ready to react the moment he saw the enemy. It was a precaution; he hoped to hell they hadn’t made is so far into friendly territory without attracting attention because that meant everyone was in deep shit.

Daryl tried to block out the blood covering his hands. Paul’s blood. He tried, but it was no damn use. Tears burned at his eyes as his mind forced his to relive the moment the bullet had slammed into Paul’s body, dragging him to the ground.

They reached the infirmary in record time. Daryl was unsurprised to find Siddiq and a few other Alexandrian’s checking through their medical supplies, preparing stations for the injured. Siddiq rushed over to them as they entered.

“He’s been shot,” Daryl said, helping Aaron lay Paul on one of the hospital beds. “Hit his head too. He’s lost too much blood…”. Panic threatened to overwhelmed him, break him wide open. He took a deep breath; falling apart wasn’t going to help Paul.

“Give me some room to work,” Siddiq said with a calmness that seemed foreign to Daryl in that moment. Daryl watched on helplessly, wincing at Paul’s almost translucent skin.

He couldn’t unclench his fingers from around Paul’s hand. 

“Daryl,” Aaron murmured quietly. “Give them room. Paul’s in good hands now.”

_Paul. _

Wrenching himself away from the other half of his soul, he stalked to the other side of the room, body trembling. If Paul died….

If Paul died, he couldn’t see a way he could move on from that. How had Rick done it when his wife had died? How had Aaron done it? Maggie? They had all survived the agony of losing the person they loved. How? Because he could feel parts of himself dying as he watched Siddiq try to save Paul’s life.

His eyes were glued to the scene. Siddiq cutting Paul’s clothes away. The bullet hole. Blood. So much blood. A person couldn’t survive losing that much blood. His breath became choppy, terror infusing into his every thought.

Aaron was suddenly in front of his face, blocking his view. “You don’t need to watch this. There is nothing you can do for him. Why don’t you wait outside?”

_Nothing he could do._

There as nothing he could do for Paul, but he could make Alexandria safe again. The moment the idea entered his head, a sense of clarity washed through him. He wasn’t much good at saving lives. He was better at killing. That’s what he could do for Paul.

If the Saviours wanted to fuck with him, they’d get their wish.

He was going hunting. 


	25. Lost Without Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update, I struggled with this chapter so much!

“Daryl, wait. Just stay here. You’re going to get yourself killed out there.”

No, he was going to kill a lot of shit out there.

He shrugged off Aaron’s hands. No one was stopping him. He should have tracked down the Saviours weeks ago, eliminated the threat before they fucking threw a grenade at the gates of their community. Now Paul was laying in a pool of his own blood dangerously close to death.

“Either fuck off, or help me. Those are the choices. I ain’t sittin’ on my ass no more, waitin’ for everyone to get their shit together so we can take them out. They shot Paul,” his voice broke, but it only hardened his resolve. “Stay with him.”

“He’s got a lot of people watching over him,” Aaron said, checking over his gun. “You’re acting crazy so I’m coming with you. When he wakes up, I’m not telling him that you’re dead.”

_When he wakes up. _

If he woke up was more like it. There was a good chance that he wouldn’t. Daryl was a realist. He wasn’t going to tell himself bullshit stories to make himself feel better. No amount of praying was going to safe Paul. All he could do was rely on Siddiq’s medical skills.

Daryl pushed ahead, barely aware of Aaron following him. He was focused out taking out the Saviours; it was the only reason why he was able to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving.

As they made their way through the streets, the silence started to bother Daryl. Where was everyone? Around obviously because someone had done a make-shift repair on the gate. The walkers he and Paul had killed earlier were still littered all of the floor. He thought he could see someone on top of the wall, standing guard, but he couldn’t be sure in the shit light.

A noise drew his attention. He looked up to find Eugene jogging towards them. “Have you seen Tara?”

“No, we ain’t,” Daryl replied, stopping Eugene with his hand. “Hey, where’s Rick? Rosita? What’s goin’ on out here?”

“Rick’s on the way to the infirmary with Rosita. She took a bullet to the leg. Tara followed the Saviours.”

Shit. “How many are there left?”

Eugene shrugged. “Two or three. Could be more.”

Daryl looked to Aaron. “We should split up. We’ll cover more ground.”

Aaron shook his head. “I’m not leaving you alone. Your head isn’t in the game.”

“What happened?” Eugene asked.

Daryl couldn’t say the words, his gut constricting painfully. Aaron spoke for him. “Jesus was shot too. Siddiq is working on him now.”

Eugene swore. “I’m mighty sorry to hear that.”

Sympathy was the last thing Daryl wanted. “Come on, let’s go. You comin’ with us?”

Shaking his head, Eugene replied. “No. I’ll keep searching for Tara, you guys go on ahead.”

He disappeared down the road. Aaron said, “I don’t like this. We’re all split up. Easier for them to pick us off one by one.”

“Go with him. I’m fine on my own.”

“No.”

He never realised what a stubborn bastard Aaron was before. They started walking in silence which was the best Daryl could hope for. It only took a couple of minutes before Aaron was talking about. “He’s going - ”

“Don’t,” Daryl pleaded.

“You’re acting like he’s already gone. Like there isn’t any hope. His heart is still beating, there’s hope.”

Daryl glanced at him. “Hope is dangerous. Might as well accept the inevitable. If it doesn’t happen now, it’s gonna happen sooner or later. You should know that better than anyone.” It was a low blow, but it was the truth. Aaron had watched the man he loved die.

Aaron’s expression faltered for a second. “It might not happen to you. You can’t live your life afraid of the future.”

“That’s easy to say until the future bites you in the ass. Tears open your fuckin’ heart,” he crocked out, emotion taking away his ability to talk.

“It’s never easy,” Aaron said gently. “No one ever said it was going to be.”

That was an accurate description of life, Daryl thought.

“I don’t wanna talk about this no more. We need to find the Saviours and make sure they’re dead once and for all.”

Aaron looked around them. “We need one of them alive to question. If they all die, we might never find out who the mole is.”

He was right about that. He doubted the bastard was just going to hand themselves in if all the Saviours died. They were probably counting on it, knowing that once the Saviours were gone, there would be no one left to identify them.

Coming up to the church, Daryl rounded a house. Bullets embedded into the wall next to his head as he felt Aaron yank him backwards, getting him out of the line of fire. Chucks of debris flew into his cheek, lancing his unprotected skin.

“Shit,” he muttered. Too fucking close. He swiped the blood away from his face with his arm. 

They took a minute to settle. “Did you see how many of them there is?”

“No, happened too fast,” Aaron replied, his body visibly tense.

“We could circle back around, come at them from a different angle.”

“Or slip inside the house,” Daryl suggested. “Should give us some cover. Who lives here?”

“It’s empty. We’ve been using it for storage,” Aaron said. “I’ll follow your lead.”

They darted back the way they came, slipping inside the back door. It was unlocked which kept they from making too much noise. Daryl took his time completing a sweep of the downstairs, whilst Aaron made his way to the first floor. It was relatively empty, the rooms holding a few pieces of mismatched furniture and boxes.

Daryl went to join Aaron and found him crouched low, looking out the window of the master bedroom. He closed the door behind him and took up position at the other window.

“See anythin’?” he asked Aaron.

“It’s hard to see anything in this light, but I think they’re in the house across the street. The front windows are smashed.” Following Aaron’s eyeline, Daryl spotted the glass on the floor, the moonlight hitting slithers, reflecting the light.

“I need to get over there,” Daryl stated. They weren’t going to get away this time. “You lay down some cover, draw their attention. I’ll take a wide berth, try and keep out of their sight. There can only be two, maybe three of them left.”

Aaron lowered his gun, focusing on Daryl. “If I let you do this, are you going to promise me you’ll be smart?”

Daryl snorted at him. “I ain’t got a death wish or anything. I want them dead. Gone. If Paul lives, I don’t want him to wake up in a world where they still exist.”

Aaron gave him a long look. Nodded. “I’ll watch your back. Just be careful.”

“I will,” Daryl vowed. He would live for Paul.

He went to leave when Aaron called him back. “Daryl? Remember that we need one alive.”

In his current state of mind, that was tall ask. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Footsteps silent on the ground, Daryl let himself out the house, the cool air prickling across his skin. Crossbow ready, he rushed around the house, sticking close to the shadows. When he heard gunshots, he understood that Aaron was doing as instructed, getting the Saviours attention.

Daryl sprang into action, his legs eating up the ground as he crossed the street, hoping that he had calculated the angles right. When he didn’t immediately get shot, he figured that the Saviours had taken the bait and were entirely focused on Aaron.

With the sounds of war splitting across the sky, he knew it wouldn’t be long before back up came. He didn’t – couldn’t – wait for them to arrive. The rage inside of him needed an outlet, a target. It was burning hot, a tornado inside of him that was thrashing against the confines of his body.

It needed out.

Breath heavy, he reached the house next door to where the Saviours were located. Crouching low, Daryl crept closer to their hideout, plastering himself against the wall. Aaron was still firing, giving him the opportunity to make his way to the backyard.

There was no guard, suggesting that the Saviours were truly down to their last few men. They couldn’t afford to spare anyone to watch their backs. Daryl smiled coldly. Good, made his job a hell of a lot easier.

He entered through the unlocked back door, stilling when his eyes landed on a body. For a horrifying second, he thought it was Tara. Same hair colouring, similar shape. He lowered on his haunches, swiping the woman’s hair from her face.

He didn’t know her; it wasn’t Tara. He thought he’d seen her around Alexandria before, but he couldn’t remember her name which made him feel like an asshole. She shouldn’t have died in her home. Shouldn’t have died at all.

Was there any other Alexandrians in the house? It was doubtful that she lived in the house alone.

Shit.

Daryl rose, his head swimming with dizziness. Adrenaline had given him the energy to carry on, but his body was starting to fail him, exhaustion settling deep into his bones.

There wasn’t time to let himself feel it. He had to keeping going, get it done.

Get back to Paul. Daryl was lost without him. 

Leaving him didn’t seem like such a good idea now. What if he died and Daryl was out here, hunting worthless Saviours? Paul was hanging onto life by a threat and he had just left. What kind of man did that? Panic literally stole his breath, the pain of it forcing him to double over. No, he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack surrounded by the enemy.

Taking a deep breath, he settled himself. He took another one and another one, until he was calmer.

Daryl tiptoed up the stairs, movements slow, his eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The gunshots had died down since he had entered the house, but they were still volleying back and forth. He made the decision to search the other rooms before heading to the front of the house. He didn’t want anyone sneaking up behind him.

He quickly cleared the rooms in silence. The door to the front bedroom was closed providing a barrier between him and the Saviours, affording him a little time to get the search done. Approaching the last bedroom, his blood turned cold, a whimper coming from the back of the room.

Eyes accustomed to the low light, it took Daryl all of five seconds to work out there was a child in a crib. A baby. He walked towards the crib, his heart breaking for the baby who had more than likely just lost its mother.

All of his anger vanished, protectiveness taking its place.

Paul needed him. The baby needed him.

The Saviours were nothing.

“Shhh,” he hushed. Did the Saviours know the baby was in the house? He peered down at the child, guessing he was around six months. He was clothed in an all in one suit, similar to those he had seen Judith in when he was the kid’s age.

The baby stared at him, meeting his eye with an inquisitive look.

“Hey there,” Daryl whispered. “You’re gonna be alright.”

Tears welled in the baby’s eyes, as if he knew that Daryl was offering him false promises. Daryl took the stuffed bear next to his head and tucked it into his arms. There was also a pacifier, so Daryl gave him that too. “I’ll be back soon.”

It took every ounce of his willpower to walk away from the baby, but he knew they were both in danger as long as the Saviours were still in Alexandria. Leaving the bedroom, he closed the door with a soft click.

“…everywhere. The shooting is telling them exactly where we are! This is a fucking shit show.” A male voice came from behind the door.

A woman responded. “If we get out of here I’m gonna slit that old woman’s throat and her husband. I’ll bash his head in with his own tools. Giving us shit information. We should have just killed them.”

Daryl stilled, ear close to the door. Who the hell were they talking about?

His brain connected the dots.

Fucking hell.

“I told Guy, we never should have come here. How the fuck did he think we were gonna get to Negan with five men against a whole town?”

“He’s a prick, always does what he wants without thinking about the consequences.” There was a pause. “Fuck! There’s Rick – he’s coming this way. Shoot him!”

Daryl opened the door, sending a bolt straight into the throat of the man. He gurgled and fell the floor, too stunned to put up any kind of defence. There was no satisfaction, no glee at killing the man. He was bone tired; he needed it to be over.

The woman, a blonde with a high pony, spun around, gun pointing right at his head. Someone – Aaron, mostly likely – was his guardian angel. A bullet hit her from behind, drilling right into her shoulder. She cried out, falling forward, gun falling from her grasp.

Daryl kicked it away, careful to stay away from the window. Aaron wouldn’t be able to tell friend from foe from across the street.

The Saviour lay on the floor, writhing in pain. Daryl pressed his boot to her torso. “Are there any more of you?”

“Fuck you,” she spat, face pale.

Pressing harder, he asked, “Who’s been feedin’ you information?”

He knew, the conversation he had overheard had been enough for him to put it together, but it didn’t make any sense to him. He wanted details. The Saviour’s face twisted. “Fuck you.”

Daryl sighed, no patience left. He thought about executing her. Instead, he searched the room for something to tie her up with. All he found was a belt. He made do, trying her hands behind her back. She wasn’t going anywhere with a bullet in her shoulder. Someone else could deal with her.

Daryl left the Saviours where they were, eager to get back to the baby. He was one hell of a fighter, keeping quiet amongst all the noise. When he entered the bedroom this time, he slung his crossbow over his back and took the baby in his arms, wrapped in a blanket to protect him from the blood and grime on his clothes.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, unsure who he was speaking to. Both of them, he concluded.

Cradling the boy, he made his way through the house, resolved to head back to the infirmary.


	26. The Infirmary

On his way back to infirmary, Daryl bumped into Rick. They exchanged a few words before Rick ran off, telling Daryl he and a few of the others were doing a sweep of Alexandria. Between the Saviours and the walkers who had breached the ways, there was every possibility that there were more lurking around.

Daryl had asked if there was any news about Paul as Eugene had told him that Rick had taken Rosita to the infirmary. He never made it there. Gabriel had volunteered to take her so that Rick was free to hunt down the last of the Saviours so he had no idea if Paul was still alive.

Still holding onto the boy, Daryl forced his legs to move. They halted inches away from the door. He had been standing a couple of yards away from the infirmary door for a good five minutes, berating himself for leaving in the first place. Too terrified to hope that Paul would recover.

The moment he stepped inside, he would know what his future held. Paul or an abyss of hopelessness and grief. He was leaning towards the latter because life rarely went his way.

The baby fussed, drawing his attention. Bouncing a little, the movement informed him that his body was on the edge of shutting down. His system was hay wiring, dread saturating every cell. Now that the threat had been neutralised there was nothing to distract him from the fact that Paul could die. Could already be dead for all he knew because he’d been too fucking scared to stick around to find out

He was a fuck up, always making the wrong decisions. Taking off when shit got tough. Paul deserved better than that from him. Problem was, he didn’t know how to process what had happened. He finally allowed himself to love someone and Daryl could have lost him already.

There was no sense in that. What the hell was the point in trying to build a life if in one single moment it could come crashing down? In some ways it had been easier when he’d been a loner, when he could count the number of people he cared about on one hand. Then he wouldn’t have to fucking watch them all die.

Convinced that Paul was gone, he thought he might as well get on with it. Be hit with the news so he leave. Deal with it away from everyone else. There was no fucking way he could stay if Paul was dead. 

When he stepped into the infirmary, Rosita was laying back against the bed, her leg propped up beneath a pile of pillows. “Siddiq,” she called as soon as she spotted Daryl and the baby.

Siddiq rounded the corner, coming into sight, concern radiating from him. “Jackson,” he said, eyes on the baby. They shifted to Daryl as he took the kid into his arms, checking him over. “Where’s Jenny, his mom?”

“Dead,” Daryl grated out.

Siddiq sighed, closing his eyes. “I’ll find somewhere to put him down for a nap. Jenny’s boyfriend was killed a couple of months before he was born.”

So the kid would grow up without his parents, Daryl thought, exhaustion battering down on him. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. Siddiq gave him a strange look. “Jesus is in the other room. He’s still out of it at the moment, but I expect him to wake up within the next couple of hours. The bullet went straight through so I closed him up.”

Daryl’s head snapped up, stomach churning. “He’s alive?”

Siddiq’s expression softened. “Yes,” he confirmed. “He’ll be sore, but as far as I can tell, there won’t be any permanent damage.”

Daryl swallowed. “He really alive?”

Siddiq nodded. “Yes. You should go and sit with him before you fall down. You need to rest. If he wakes up, he’ll probably be around for a few minutes. His body needs to recover so don’t be worried if he falls back to sleep quickly. Come and get me if you have any concerns, but he should be fine.”

He barely heard the last words, his legs already directing him to Paul. The only bed occupied in the room was Paul’s, the low lighting preventing Daryl from really seeing him until he had crossed the space and was stood next to the bed, gazing down on him.

He looked like shit. Almost like he was dead.

Pale skin, bruising underneath his eyes. Nothing like the vibrant man Daryl had first met all those months ago. But he was breathing, which was all Daryl cared about. Resting a hand on Paul’s chest, he took a moment to feel it rising and fall.

He was alive. Tears burned at the back of his eyes as he finally permitted himself to believe it. He bowed his head to Paul’s, inhaling deeply.

“I’m never lettin’ you outta my sight again,” he whispered, breath ragged.

He half expected Paul to respond. He grown used to talking to him, to their intimate conversations. Being met with silence was unsettling. That wasn’t who Paul was.

A hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. Daryl glanced at the intruder, relaxing when Aaron’s face registered. “Aren’t you glad I stopped you from doing anything crazy? When he wakes up, he would have kicked both of our asses.”

Daryl looked down at Paul again. “Yeah. Thanks, I know I was bein’ a dick.”

“You were in shock,” Aaron stated. “I get that. I just wanted to come check on him and you before I got back to Gracie. Siddiq said you brought a child back with you?”

“A baby,” Daryl said quietly, wondering how the was doing. “Saviours killed his mom. I don’t know if they actually had a shred of decency or didn’t realise he was there.”

“All we can do is be thankful for small blessings,” Aaron said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll come back in the morning. Please try and get some rest. I can’t decide who looks worse out of the pair of you.”

“Fuck you,” Daryl shot back without heat. “I’ll take one of the beds in a bit. Just want to sit with him for a while.”

Aaron gave him a small smile. “Good. I’ve asked Siddiq to knock you out if you aren’t asleep in a couple of hours.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “I’ve been asleep for days.” Though it was easy to forget that. He was fighting the fatigue. There was a possibility that he would wake up and Paul would have slipped away from him.

Aaron dipped his shoulder. “The instructions have been given.”

Daryl flipped him off, collapsing into the chair beside Paul’s bed as soon as the other man left. All he could do was wait until Paul woke up. Siddiq’s assurances that Paul would open those eyes were keeping him going. Keeping him sane.

“Wake up, you little shit.”

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, he found himself drifted off with no way to halt it.

Waking had never been difficult for Paul. He was an early riser, he liked to start the day early, getting the tasks ticked off his to-do list before everyone else had began to stir. Not as early as Daryl, but all in all he woke easily.

His eyes blinked open, automatically taking stock of his surroundings. _The infirmary. _The location came to him easily, the knowledge a clear in the storm of his mind. He lifted his head, grimacing through the pain. It was worth it to find Daryl sitting next to him.

_Daryl._

Paul gritted through the pain, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through Daryl’s hair. The other man shifted beneath his touch, stirring from a deep sleep he surely needed.

“You’re awake,” Daryl said, his voice cracking.

“Yeah. What happened?” His throat was dry, sore.

Daryl’s eyes blazed. “You got shot, you fuckin’ asshole. Right in front of me.”

_Oh. _He remembered pieces, fragments. Nothing substantial. But he knew it must have scared the hell out of Daryl if his anger was anything to go by. “I’m sorry.”

Daryl sucked in a breath. Let it out. “Not your fault. I was just – I ain’t ever felt that helpless before. Hated it.”

“I’m still sorry you had to go through that.” He took in Daryl’s bloodstained clothes, the grime coating his skin. The exhaustion sunken into his face. “Are you okay? Did you get injured?”

Daryl’s expression crumped. “Nah. I’m fine. Paul, I ain’t…right for you.” Concerned by his distress, Paul tried to reach out, the movement aggravating his injury. “Stop,” Daryl commanded. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“What’s wrong?” Aside from the pair of them being physically and emotionally worn down.

Daryl looked at him through his lashes. “I left you. I left you here so I could go out there and fight.”

Relief washed through him. He had been half-convinced that one of their friends had been killed. “You were needed out there,” he told Daryl. “Not a lot you could do to help Siddiq unless you’ve been holding out on me, hiding your medical skills.”

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right.”

“Hey,” Paul said, forcing Daryl to meet his eye. “Do you expect me to be angry at you for leaving my side?” He was pleased to hear it. Knowing Daryl as well as he did now, Paul understood that he was a man of action. Sitting around waiting, potentially only to be told there was nothing more that could be done, wasn’t the person Daryl was.

He shrugged.

Paul reached for his hand. “I’m not, but I am mad that you’re not laying in one of these beds. You look as bad as I feel. Are you going to tell me what happened?” He did want to know, but he also wanted to distract Daryl from his misplaced guilt.

Daryl intertwined their fingers. “Do you really wanna know about that now?”

“Yes,” Paul confirmed. “I want to know that it’s over. Please tell me it’s over.”

Daryl sighed. “It’s over for now. The Saviours are dead except one. I guess Rick will want to question her, make sure they really are all gone. I know at least one of our own was killed, a woman Jenny. I found the last Saviours in her house. Her baby was in his crib, alive. Siddiq told me that his dad died before he was born.”

Paul saw Daryl’s eyes water, his head duck. “It ain’t fair or right.”

“No, it’s not,” Paul murmured, his own heart aching.

Daryl cleared his throat. “Rosita took a bullet to the leg, but she’ll be fine. Everyone is okay as far as I know. I came straight back here so that’s all I know.”

It was enough, Paul thought, to put his mind at ease. “I guess we’ll find out who was helping them once Rick has questioned the Saviour.”

Jaw clenched, Daryl said, “I think I know, or I know some of it. When I found the Saviours, I snuck up on them. They were talkin’ about an old woman and beatin’ a man with his own tools.”

“Tammy and Earl,” Paul whispered, acknowledging the only people who fit the description at Hilltop. They were his friends, people he thought were invested in their community, what they were trying to build. “Why would they help the Saviours?”

“Dunno,” Daryl muttered. “Doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Have you told anyone else what you heard?”

Daryl shook his head.

“We need to talk to them.” Find out what the hell was going on. If it was the couple who had been aiding the Saviours, how had they been contacting them? Why? No, it didn’t make any sense.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere for a while,” Daryl said, eyes landing on the bandages covering his wound. “Focus on recoverin’. We’ll leave the other shit up to Rick and Maggie for a bit. We’re both fallin’ apart.”

They should leave it be. Neither him nor Daryl would be much use to anyone until they got back on their feet. But it wasn’t that simple. Tammy and Earl were his people, his friends.

“Paul?”

“Hmm?” he answered, distracted by his confusion.

“You can’t get hurt like that again. I thought you were gonna die.” His voice choked. He shook his head. “I figured I was used to losing people by now. I was fuckin’ wrong.”

Largely immobile, Paul couldn’t comfort Daryl the way he needed to. “I’m okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that,” Daryl accused, eyes heated. “Don’t fuckin’ say that to me. Not when I had your blood all over my hands.”

“If the world was still normal, I could have been hit by a car or shoot by some other asshole with a gun. It’s the risk you take when you love someone. Do you think it would be any easier to lose me if we broke up?”

Daryl snatched his hand away from Paul’s. “What the hell are you talkin’ about breakin’ up for?”

“My point is that we’re in this now. There’s no going back. We can’t magically erase our feelings for each other which means you’re only going to drive yourself crazy thinking about…” He wasn’t explaining his argument very well. Side effect of the bullet wound. “I’ll do everything I can to keep myself safe and you’ll do the same. That’s all we can do. Everything else is out of our control.”

Daryl’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I know that. Just gonna take me a while to get over this. Like more than the couple of hours it’s been.”

Paul gave him a smile. “I’ll give you that.”

“You better. Probably gonna be traumatised for the next six months.”

“I think we’re all coping pretty well considering what we’ve been through.” But they were all traumatised to some extent. There was no surviving the world unscathed. It left scars, on the body and mind. Made you dig so far into your soul to grasp at the depleting strength. “Are you going to get in bed with me or in the one next to me?” Because he was laying his head on a pillow if Paul had to get up himself to force him there.

“I’ll take that one,” he lifted his head. “I don’t wanna roll on your or anythin’.”

Paul nodded, the movement making his head swim. “Shit,” he said, fighting the nausea.

Daryl leaned over, brushing Paul's hair out of his face. “Rest.”

“Not unless you do,” he said stubbornly.

Daryl pressed a kiss to his hand, rising. “I’m only doin’ what you say because you need to sleep. Don’t think I’m gonna make a habit out of it.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t ever think that.” He watched Daryl climb into the bed next to his, only allowing his eyes to close once he saw with his own eyes that Daryl’s head hit the pillow.


	27. Jackson

Daryl stepped out of the shower, steam rolling off his skin in waves. The water had almost burned him it had been so hot, but he needed it. Needed it to cleanse himself of all the blood soaking into his clothes, down to his skin.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way back to the room he was sharing with Paul. He had been moved to Rick’s house this morning, Siddiq happy to have the pair of them out of his infirmary. They had been bitching from the moment they had opened their eyes.

Walking into the room, his eyes immediately found Paul on the bed, Tyr curled up next to him. Apparently the little guy had been an awesome guard dog for Michonne and Judith, barking at anyone who came close to the house. Including Rick. Daryl would have loved to see that.

Paul cornered the page of his book, placing it beside Tyr. “Good shower?”

Daryl shrugged. “Would’ve been better if you were in there with me.”

His eyes raked over Daryl’s bare chest. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I ain’t,” Daryl said, unconvincingly.

“Asshole.”

Daryl smirked, mission accomplished. “Shouldn’t you be sleepin’?”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “I’m feeling fine. I’ve already agreed to not getting out of this bed, I’m not going to waste the day sleeping.”

Daryl eyed him, rummaging through his bag for some clean clothes. “No? What are you gonna be doin’ then?”

“We need to tell Rick about what you overheard.”

Stifling a sigh, Daryl picked out a t-shirt and some jeans. “I can do that on my own.”

“No,” Paul said. “I want to be apart of it. I need to. He might need to be talked down. I don’t want them to be killed.”

Daryl snorted. “You think he’s gonna kill them when he wouldn’t kill Negan until he had to?”

Paul was quiet for a minute. “He’s still unpredictable, Daryl.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “It ain’t his call to make, not if he was serious about a council. Might be a good chance for us to see how it would work in practice.”

“Maybe,” Paul conceded, stroking his hand along Tyr’s back. “Why are you getting dressed for? Are you leaving me?”

“Not unless you start pissin’ me off,” Daryl smiled. “I told Rick to come see us later. Don’t think he really wants an eyeful of my cock.”

Paul cocked his head to the side. “You ever want to see his? You were with him for a long time before I caught your eye.”

“Nah. He ain’t my type,” he said, looking at Paul. “Obviously.”

“Am_ I_ your type?”

Daryl ducked his head, unsure how to answer. Paul wasn’t his type, or maybe he was. He’d never really had a type, just took whoever was interested and available. His attraction to Paul was a mystery to him. He never gone for anyone like Paul in his life. Couldn’t explain the way the other man made his blood heat.

“Am I your type?” he shot back.

Paul had no problems telling him the truth. “Not really.”

“No?” For some reason it bothered him.

“No, but thinking about it, I don’t know if ‘types’ are just people who you think you should like. I actively sought out certain hook-ups out and they never turned into a long term thing. I meet you, find you irritating as hell and nothing like the kind of guy I would usually go for, and I love you.”

That was exactly it. He nodded in agreement.

Paul smiled at him.

“I’m gonna go see that kid later," he changed the subject, feeling awkward as hell. "Jackson.”

“You’re a good man Daryl Dixon.”

After all he’d done? He didn’t think so, but he did want to see the baby. Make sure he was doing alright. “I just wanna check in on him.”

“I wish I could come with you.”

“I will tie you to this bed if I have to. Don’t test me.”

Paul grinned. “Kinky.”

“All you ever think about is sex. Even when you got a bullet hole in you.” Not that he was really complaining. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had been sure that Paul was dying. He would listen to him talk about damn thing he wanted if as it meant it was proof that he was alive. The near-miss had shaved ten years of Daryl’s life.

“I can’t help the way my brain is wired,” Paul defended, a sudden sleepiness clouding his voice. Siddiq had told him that it was normal for him to fall asleep at a moments notice. The pain medication he was taking also made him a little loopy.

“I love the way your brain is wired,” Daryl said quietly, sitting on the bed beside him, careful not to jostle his body too much.

Paul’s drooping eyelashes fluttered open. “I’m gonna have a nap.”

“Hmmm hmmm,” Daryl hummed, resting his palm over Paul’s head, stroking.

It didn’t take long for him to drift off. Two minutes, Daryl guessed. He stayed with him for a while, content to just watch him sleep even though he knew it was inching into creeper territory. He couldn’t stop himself; it was difficult to believe that Paul had made it. That he was out of the woods. Shit didn’t usually go their way like that.

He got out of bed when his ass got numb. Putting on his shoes, he grabbed his crossbow and whistled for Tyr to follow him. The dog’s ears perked up and he scrambled off the bed, running to Daryl in an instant. On his way out, he asked Michonne to check in on Paul every so often. She was staying close to the house as morning sickness was kicking her ass.

Outside, Tyr ran ahead of him, sights immediately set on a group of birds who were picking at some crumbs on the road. He then made it his mission to go and get attention from everyone else who was out walking. Daryl shook his head, wondering how he had got stuck with such a sociable dog.

Paul. That was his answer in one word.

Nearly at the infirmary, his name was shouted. “Daryl!”

He spun around, finding Rick walking towards him, Judith on his hip. “Hey,” he greeted the pair, ruffling the little one’s hair. He could hardly believe that the little girl in front of him was the same baby who had stolen his heart at the prison.

Tyr raced around their feet as Rick spoke. “How’s Jesus doing?”

Daryl inwardly winced at the nickname. It didn’t fit with who he was, but he guessed that everyone was stuck in the habit of calling him it now. “Alright. He’s restin’ now.” He gave him the short answer, knowing he’d had an update from Siddiq this morning on both of their conditions.

“Good,” Rick said, nodding. “Where you heading? If you’re looking for something to do, I could use someone to do a perimeter sweep with me. Make sure there’s no damage except for the gates. I can fill you in on what we’ve got from the Saviour you captured.”

“Infirmary. Check on the kid,” he answered, uncomfortable admitting it. He didn’t know why. “I can help after for a couple of hours?” It would be a good opportunity to teach Tyr how to act outside the gates. He needed to stop running after fucking birds.

“Thanks. I’ll drop Judith off at home, circle back around for you. It’ll be like old times.”

It was getting there, Daryl realised. _They_ were getting there. With Negan gone, they were moving forward. Daryl wasn’t going to hold a grudge for anything that had happened in the past, not with recent events fresh in his mind. Any of them could die in an instant and he didn’t want anything standing between them if the worse happened.

“Sure, see you in a bit.” He waved at Judith who waved her little hand back. “Tyr, come on.”

Considering they’d been under attack last night, the infirmary was quiet. Paul and Rosita were the only ones who had sustained serious injuries. Everyone else was either fine or dead. Like Jackson’s mom. She was one of three who hadn’t made it. All taken out by the Saviours.

The woman he’d tied up was in Negan’s cell so that left Rosita on her lonesome with the exception of Siddiq and the kid. No one knew what to do with him. People were hesitant to take on the responsibility of the baby. It wasn’t just that, Daryl knew. It was knowing that the kid would be apart of your family, loving him would be inevitable and he could be taken too soon. Like Sophia or Carl.

If the situation were different, if he and Paul had been together longer, discussed the whole kids thing in depth, maybe Jackson could be theirs. But it couldn’t happen right now. It couldn’t, no matter how cute the kid was or how much he needed a family.

Siddiq was sat by Rosita’s bed when Daryl walked in. They both looked up at the same time, twin expressions of ‘oh shit’ on their faces. Before Paul he might have missed the looks, but he knew what they meant. If they weren’t already, they were on the way to being thing. Because he knew how damn annoying it was to have everyone gossiping about him, Daryl pretended he didn’t notice anything.

“Is Jesus okay?” Siddiq asked, straightening his body, making the smooth transition to medical professional.

“He’s fine,” Daryl replied, putting Tyr on a leash. He was sure the puppy would get into some kind of trouble if he was allowed to run riot. “I wanted to check on the baby.”

Siddiq’s smile was sad. “He’s physically in good health, but I think he misses his mom. He’s been crying a lot.”

“Shit,” Daryl muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. I can keep him here for a few days, but after that…I don’t know. We’ll figure something out, I guess. You want to see him?”

“I don’t wanna wake him up.”

Siddiq lifted a baby monitor and turned up the volume. The sound of baby noises filled the room. “He’s not asleep. I’ve been trying to get him to nap, but he thinks it’s play time.”

Daryl was secretly relieved. “Can I leave Tyr in here with you?”

Rosita answered. “Yes, I need the distraction. Don’t know why Jesus got sprung out of here and I have to stay.”

Siddiq let out a long breath, evidently used to her bitching by now. Daryl wouldn’t be surprised if Siddiq had offered to let her go; the pair had seemed pretty cosy when he’d walked in. Handing the leash to Siddiq, he left them to it.

The baby was still gurgling when he entered the room, sat up in a crib, looking so damn alone that Daryl had to look away. He took a few seconds to pull himself together before walking over to the crib and taking the kid in his arms. Now that his world wasn’t falling apart at the seams, he took a proper look at the youngster.

There were a few teeth, a cap of dark hair. Blue eyes that seared straight through to his soul. “You’re a cute kid,” he said, hands grabbing at his face. Tiny fingers yanked at his hair. “Uh uh,” he rebuke, pulling his hair free.

“A-ga.”

Daryl studied him, trying to figure out was he was communicating. “Don’t get what you mean, kid.”

Jackson smiled, kicking his legs. Fuck, it had been a mistake coming to see him. How was he supposed to walk away from him?

_Because you ain’t daddy material. _

_You ain’t in a position to be raisin’ a kid. _

_What the fuck would Paul say if l took the baby home?_

Shit.

He spent the next fifteen minutes playing with Jackson, his heart being stolen with every minute that passed. Enough time to form a bond that would be near impossible to break. Before he knew it, Rick was stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Daryl grunted at him, hoping the man hadn’t heard him making baby noises.

“I’ll wrap up here,” he told Rick.

“No rush.”

Daryl sighed, pressing a kiss to Jackson’s head. “I ain’t keepin’ him.”

Rick raised his brows. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Paul and I just started…” he trailed off, unsure how to define their relationship.

Rick smiled. “I get it, Daryl. You’re in a new relationship, a baby would complicate things.”

Was that a good reason to leave the kid to fend for himself?

“Yeah,” he said lamely.

“We’ll find a home for him,” Rick assured. “He don’t need to be yours for you to keep him safe. You’ve been saving Judith since she was born.”

“He needs us to look out for him,” Daryl stated. Rick was right, he didn’t have to adopt the kid to watch over him, but he wanted Rick to understand that Jackson was important to him. Family. In this world, you had to chose it.

“We will,” Rick promised, “I’ll meet you out front.”

“Nah, it’s good,” Daryl said. “I’ll see if Siddiq will play with him for a bit.”

Turned out, Siddiq was preparing the baby some food. After saying a quick goodbye, he, Rick and Tyr left the infirmary and set out towards the gates. There were a group of people making repairs and ultimately improvements. Alexandria needed an upgrade. Rick and Michonne had been talking about it for a while and after the damage done by Negan and then the rogue Saviours, it was needed.

Once they were outside the gate, they stuck together, walking the perimeter, checking for any damage in their defences. They were ten minutes into their walk before Rick spoke again. “Did you make a decision, about staying here?”

“Not really,” he answered, whistling at Tyr to came stand by him. “Paul said he’d be good with it, but I ain’t sure what to do. Hilltop is his home. Been mine for months.”

Rick didn’t respond right away. “Do what feels right. Like I said, I want you here, but I understand that you’ve got someone else to consider now. Still feels weird, saying that to you. Didn’t think you would settle down.”

Daryl snorted. “Do I seem settled to you? Since we started fuckin’ all hell has broken loose. I’m tryin’ not to take that as a sign.”

“Shit hasn’t been settled, but _you_ are more content than I’ve ever seen you.”

Maybe. Probably. He felt more centred. Balanced.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Rick asked.

“You and Michonne doin’ good? Didn’t think she’d give you the time of day after you were makin’ eyes at that woman. What was her name? Jessie?”

Rick’s cheeks turned red. “Yeah, well, I was a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed.

“It wasn’t her, you know? I was messed up when we got here, still am. She was the type of woman I would have gone for in the old world. Michonne would have scared the shit out of me.”

Daryl smiled at that.

Rick continued. “She’s strong. A lot stronger than I am. That’s intimidating, especially when you think you’re losing your mind.”

“Paul is stronger than me.” His foundations were strong. Daryl’s crumbled every time some shit happened. “Nothing wrong with admitting that.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So you gonna tell me what you got from the Saviour?” He wanted to know if the Saviour had talked.

“Tammy and Earl,” Rick said, meeting his eye.

Fuck, Daryl had wanted to be wrong.

“She give you the reason why?”

“Not yet. Don’t think it was exactly wilful though by some of the things she said. I want to talk to them face to face. I don’t know them – can you think of a reason they’d work with the Saviours?”

Daryl thought of his interactions with the couple, the death of their son. No, none of it made sense to him. “No, can’t think of one. Paul was worried you would just kill ‘em.”

Rick shrugged. “Told you, I’m not making the decisions anymore.”

“Paul will want to be there when they’re questioned.”

Rick cocked his head. “You’re a team already, ain’t you?”

“Yup,” Daryl confirmed. He had Paul's back above everything else.

“Well, they probably haven’t got a clue we’re onto them so we’ve got time. Either get them here somehow or wait until your boyfriend has recovered.”

Daryl gave him the finger. “We ain’t boyfriends. I’m a grown ass man.”

“Then what do I call him?”

Hopefully before too long, his husband.

Shit, that sounded weird. But so fucking right at the same time.

“Call him by his name,” Daryl muttered instead.

Did marriage mean anything anymore? Had it ever? It had been a contract in it’s earliest form, a business transaction.

Thinking about marriage and a kid in the space of an hour? What the hell was happening to his world?


	28. A Monumental Decision

Two weeks after the attack, Paul was feeling more like his old self. He wasn’t the type of man to sit around idly, he liked being productive. Besides, in this world, you had to be. It was that or die. Most of all, he had just been fucking bored. Sure, he had books to keep him occupied, but being contained to the house had started grating on his nerves on day two.

Daryl had tried to stick close, but repairs around the town were well underway and he was needed elsewhere. When he came home, he was exhausted so Paul felt bad talking his ear off.

That had all changed this morning. Siddiq had given him a quick examine and given him the all clear. Kind of. He wasn’t meant to do anything too strenuous. He had seen Daryl focus in on that comment and he was sure it would get brought up the moment he did something that Daryl thought he wasn’t ready for.

Now he had experienced Daryl of full ‘babysit’ mode when he go injured, he wasn’t looking forward to a repeat.

Still, nothing could ruin his good mood. The sun was shining. There was hardly anything warmth radiating from it, but Paul would take it. It was the first time he had taken a walk outside in weeks. Tyr was a little in front of him, lapping up the attention passer-by’s were giving him.

He was on his way to see Jackson.

Daryl had been going to visit Jackson daily, giving Paul updates on all the cute shit he was doing. The baby had been temporality taken in by an older couple as Siddiq had his hands full with other responsibilities. Daryl had told him with a scowl that the couple were thinking of making it a permanent thing.

It was impossible to miss the connection Daryl hard formed with the child. Paul was pretty sure if he had been on his own, he would have adopted him already. Paul was open to having a conversation about it – more than - but Daryl had been tight lipped, not once mentioning the possibility of them adopting him.

So he didn’t know what to think.

He could just ask Daryl what was going on in that head of his, but he didn’t want to freak him out if he _hadn’t _thought about. Paul had been thinking about it a lot. Especially after their conversation when Daryl had been watching Judith.

The rational part of his brain told him that taking Jackson on as their own would mean skipping a hundred steps in their relationship. The problem was every time he heard Daryl speak about him, he saw the love written across his face. And the world didn’t always wait until you were ready to give you a gift.

Despite recent events laying them on their backs, he and Daryl were survivors. They could protect each other and a child. Jackson would have a good chance with them. A good life.

Even if they didn’t take him in, Paul wanted to meet him and become part of his life. Daryl was a total goner for the little guy which meant they were going to be in his life in some capacity. Thanks to his injuries, he was behind on the bonding.

Daryl didn’t know he was headed over there. He’d asked Michonne to cover for him, explaining the situation. Something was telling him that he had to have that initial meeting on his own. Before he had the conversation with Daryl, he wanted to make sure that he was sure he wanted to go ahead with it. He was pretty sure, the moment he laid eyes on the boy, he was going to fall hard.

Sarah and Jake answered the door when he knocked. The couple were in their fifities, he guessed. Word was that they had been high school sweethearts. Paul couldn’t imagine it; though not for the lack of wanting. They were either extremely luckily or fought hard to stay together and alive through everything.

“I’m Paul,” he said a little awkwardly, wishing he had thought the whole thing through a little better. Alexandrians didn’t know him like the community at Hilltop did. “I’m Daryl’s….” Shit, what was he? “I’m Daryl’s partner. I’d like to see Jackson if that’s okay?”

Jake smiled at him. It was filled with warmth. “Daryl’s told us about you. Come on in,” he said, gesturing for Paul to follow. “You’re recovering alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks for asking. It Tyr okay to come in too?”

Sarah was already fussing him. “No bother at all. We used to have dogs. Daryl’s brought him over a couple of times. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” she finished off by talking to Tyr.

Tyr shamelessly got on his back, begging for his belly to be rubbed.

He was led into a large living room, furnished better than most of his homes had been before the outbreak. Jackson was sat in the centre of a mat, toys scattered all around him. His blue eyes found Paul’s when he entered the room, a smile lighting up his face.

Paul felt his heart grow, making room for the boy. “Hey there, little man,” he said quietly. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach, his experience with children almost non-existent as soon as he hit eighteen.

Sarah and Jake took a seat on the couch, Tyr jumping between them.

Paul lowered himself onto the floor in front of Jackson. Shit, he was cute. One of them had dressed him in some dark blue sweats and a matching sweater.

How was he supposed to say no to that face?

_You’re not, you idiot_.

Jackson dropped the block he was playing with and started crawling towards Paul. “You’re clever, aren’t you?” he asked in a baby voice he would have mocked anyone else for using.

On instinct, Paul lifted him up and settled the kid on his knee. Jackson reached for his beard, tugging lightly. “You like it?”

Jackson made a happy sound.

“So Paul, are you two gonna take the poor boy?” Jake asked.

Paul met his eyes, holding Jackson close. “Daryl said you were talking about making this a permanent arrangement.” Which hurt him, so it must be hurting Daryl.

Why couldn’t the man just use his words?

The couple shared a look that Paul couldn’t decipher. Sarah spoke, taking a seat on the armchair. “I’m sick,” she said, voice wobbly. “If we were twenty years younger and in good health, you’d have to pry him from my arms. But life’s a bitch, right?”

Paul nodded. “I’m sorry.”

She dabbed at her eyes. “We’re dealing with it, but everything is so up in the air right now, it wouldn’t be fair to him. Of course, if no one else were to come forward, we would do our best, but I want better for him. Kids already have it so hard, you know? Most of them have lost one or both parent’s already. You and Daryl would be great parents.”

Paul was taken back by that statement. “You don’t know me.”

“I’ve gotten to know Daryl pretty well over the last couple of weeks. He’s a good man so I know the person he loves has got to be one too. We let it slip we were thinking about keeping him to make Daryl realise what he’d be losing.”

Jackson clapped excitedly making him smile. “He hasn’t said anything about adopting him yet. He talks about him a lot, which is rare for Daryl, but he hasn’t said anything else yet.”

Jake gazed down at the boy. “He loves that kid, Paul. Maybe he’s worried about bringing it up and you knocking the idea down. Not an unrealistic assumption considering you’ve only just met him.”

“Daryl loves him, I love him.” It was that simple. For him it was, anyway. He looked down at Jackson, feeling protective of him already. “We could do it, couldn’t we?”

Sarah studied him. “We had only been out of high school six months before I got pregnant. It was hard, I’m not going to lie to you. We were young, still learning each other. Add a baby into the mix and we were scared shitless.” Paul smiled, appreciating her honesty. “It will be harder for you if you take him on. You have every worry any other parent had plus trying to keep him alive. Teaching him how to survive this world.”

“We’ve heard about you,” Jake added. “You and Daryl before he even showed up here. We know what you do for all the communities. You can teach him everything he needs to know how to survive.”

“And beyond that? I don’t know the first thing about raising a child.”

Sarah chuckled. “Honey, no one does. Feeling never goes away even if you have more than one. If you do decide to take him, we’d like to be his honary grandparents. We had a couple of grandbabies of our own, but…” she shook her head, “they didn’t make it. I want this baby to make it, Paul.”

So did he.

Paul sent another hour with Jackson, Sarah and Jake giving them some time alone. By the time he left the house, he was resolute to talk to Daryl. He dropped Tyr off back at the house, the puppy worn out by the activity and went in search of Daryl.

He wasn’t hard to find as his man was also looking for him, and by the looks of him, he wasn’t happy.

“Where the hell have you been?” Daryl snapped, his eyes running over Paul’s body.

Paul stifled a laugh. “Are you really gonna start acting all crazy again? Watching my every move to check I’m not picking up something too heavy?”

“It ain’t funny Paul.”

“No, it isn’t,” he replied. Daryl in protective mode was incredibly sweet, but annoying as hell. “Have you got a minute? We need to talk.”

“About what? Everythin’ alright?”

Paul took hold of his hand, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, everything’s great. We just need to talk about something.”

“I hate it when you’re all cryptic,” Daryl grumbled. “Come on, we’ll sit by the water.”

Paul followed him. They sat on the ground, thighs touching. Daryl leant back on his hands. “So what have we gotta talk about?”

“I went to see Jackson.”

Daryl’s eyes widened in surprise. “You should have told me, I woulda come with you.”

“I wanted to meet him by myself.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to be sure.”

“Sure of what Paul? Usually I can’t get you to shut up and now you’re limitin’ your words?”

Paul looked at him for a second with an echo of a smile, his familiar bluster comforting. “We’re adopting him.”

Daryl’s face went slack, all expression wiped away. “What did you say?”

“We’re adopting him. He’s going to be our son.”

“Paul…” he trailed off.

Inwardly amused by his reaction, Paul tried to school his features. He got up and repositioned himself across Daryl’s lap, knee either side of his thighs. “Hey,” he whispered.

Daryl’s arms banded around him. “You’re talkin’ crazy. We’re so new, Paul. We can’t look after a kid.”

“Can’t we? Why? I love you. Unless you turn into an asshole, I’m never not going to love you. You’re the best man I know. Why wouldn’t I want to raise a child with you? Expand our family. No, it isn’t something I saw happening because of the way things are now, but are you going to tell me you won’t adopt that sweet baby because old societal norms dictate that we shouldn’t? I’ve never followed the rules and neither have you.” He let out a breath. “We can do this if we want to.”

Daryl rested his head against Paul’s chest. “I want to.”

“Then why didn’t you say so? You haven’t stopped talking about him for weeks; I was sure it was on your mind, but you never said a thing.”

“Because I thought it was talkin’ crazy. That you’d run mile.”

Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl’s neck, holding on tightly. “I’m never going to run from you.”

“Sarah and Jake want to keep him,” Daryl said, the words coming quickly.

Paul chuckled. “They were trying to speed you along.”

“Manipulatives assholes,” Daryl muttered without any heat.

“They want us to have him?” Daryl asked.

Paul explained about Sarah’s illness, the uncertainty of it all. “They still want to be in his life. They miss their grandchildren.”

Daryl nodded. “We could make that work.” He was quiet a moment. “Are you sure about this? Really sure?”

“I would have done it if you had asked me,” Paul said, stopping Daryl’s protest before they could start. “But I went to see him today to make my own decision. He’s an innocent baby, he needs parents like us. He needs us, Daryl and I want him.”

Daryl let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“Okay, as in okay, we’re about to have a son?”

It was terrifying, it was enormous. A monumental life decision.

A smile lit Daryl’s face. “Yeah. But we give it a bit of time, make sure we go into this with our eyes open and give him time to adjust. Do it right.”

Paul sealed the decision with another kiss, this one longer, deeper. “So Alexandria or Hilltop?”

Daryl groaned. “Do we have to make _that_ choice right now?”

“Alexandria is growing on me,” Paul commented. “Jackson would have Judith and the new baby to have playdates with.”

“I don’t wanna take you away from Hilltop.”

Paul grinned. “So you _do_ want to stay here?”

“You’re bein’ even more annoyin’ than usual today.”

“Me? I just saved you another two weeks of sulking around the place.”

Daryl leant forward and bit into his lip. “Annoyin’. As. Fuck.”

“You’re gonna have to clean your language or our son is going to be cursing every five seconds.”

Daryl laughed at that. “Hmmm. You ain’t no saint either.”

“True,” he conceded.

“Especially when we’re fuckin’,” Daryl whispered in his ear.

That tone had Paul’s cock responding immediately. “We’re going home. Now.”

Daryl’s hands wandered down his body. “You sure you’re up for that?”

“Yep.”

Daryl chuckled. “Better get down to business whilst we still can.”


	29. Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is the last chapter. I may do an epilogue though. Thanks for reading and I hope everyone doing okay with all the craziness going on in the world!

Daryl stood with Paul as a group from Hilltop entered the gates, led by Maggie and Rick. Rick had been gone since yesterday. It was good to see the two smiling together even if they all knew it was a fleeting moment. Tammy and Earl had been brought to Hilltop to answer some hard questions.

Paul’s nerves were tangible, his usual calm energy interrupted by the worry eating at him. Daryl slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. “It’s gonna be okay.”

His man exhaled deeply. “I hope so. They’re good people, Daryl.”

“They were,” Daryl replied. “We don’t know if that’s true no more.”

“There has to be a reason.” Paul had been adamant about that. Daryl didn’t know the couple to well, but he had to agree.

“We’ll see what they have to say for themselves.” They had better have a good reason for fucking everyone over. For almost getting Paul killed.

“Apart of me doesn’t want to know,” Paul said quietly, watching the group approach.

“We have to.”

“I know. I know that.” His tone was filled with sadness. “I want to be able to trust people in our communities, Daryl. I need that. We need that after everything that’s happened.”

He was right. The communities needed trust between each other and themselves. How shit went down today would affect them all for months and years to come. Daryl turned Paul around to face him, glad the others were stood in front of them so they wouldn’t hear him.

“You’ve got me,” Daryl assured him, curling a hand around Paul’s neck. “No matter what happens today or tomorrow, you’re always gonna have me. We got each other. Knowing that makes me stronger.”

“I love that you’re beside me right now,” Paul said, placing a kiss on his hand.

Aaron stuck his head between them. “Never thought I’d see PDA from the new power couple.”

Daryl flipped him off, causing Gabriel to sigh next to him. Rosita and Tara snickered. Michonne laughed softly.

Any retaliation was cut short as the group from Hilltop approached. Tammy and Earl were in cuffs, surrounded by a couple of guards.

They all exchanged a round of subdued greetings before heading over to the church. Only a select few were going to be present for the questioning, potential members of the council Rick was forming. For some reason, he still wanted Daryl on it.

On the way, Rick informed them all that Gregory had ran, fleeing Hilltop in the middle of the night. The way he said it there was no doubt in his mind that the bastard was somehow involved in Tammy and Earl’s betrayal.

Daryl didn’t have much time to mull it over as they reached the church quicklu. Once everyone was seated, Rick led Tammy and Earl to the centre, instructed them to sit on the chairs placed there.

Rick stood in front of the couple, with everyone else fanned out around him. “You know why you’re here.”

Tammy nodded, meeting his eye full on. “Yes.”

“Why did you do it?” The question was deceptively calm. Daryl saw the anger beneath, the rage that Rick fought hard to keep inside of him.

There was no immediate response from the couple.

Maggie stepped forward, her expression harsher. “Why did you betray us?”

Tammy looked away as Earl shook his head.

“We need answers,” Maggie pressed.

“We didn’t betray you,” Earl snapped. “That would imply we had a choice in the matter. We didn’t.” He sighed, the sigh of a man who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. “A couple of months back, we woke up to a man standing over our bed. A Saviour. He said he wanted information, or he’d kill one of us.”

Daryl had seen that look on Rick’s face dozens of times before. His cop face. “What kind of information?”

Tammy looked at him now. “He wanted one of you.”

“Who?” Maggie pressed.

“You. Rick. Michonne. Daryl. Said he needed one of the big players so that a trade for Negan could be arranged. For some reason, he didn’t think you’d hand him over for anyone else.”

Daryl couldn’t stay out of it any longer. “So you just gave him the information?”

Earl’s eyes blazed with indignation. “We gave him as little as possible. I’m not going to apologise for trying to keep my wife alive. He would have killed one of us - boasted about how easy it was for him to get into Hilltop.”

“If he could get into Hilltop, why didn’t he just come and take me?” Maggie asked.

“You were too protected inside the house.”

“Someone must have been helping him get inside,” Rick guessed. “Cue Gregory’s disappearing act.” As soon as Daryl had heard about Gregory leaving Hilltop, he’d figured that the man had been involved somehow. No one at Hilltop trusted him so he’d directed them to people who everyone else was fond of. Who they trusted.

Tammy nodded. “That’s the conclusion we come to. We tried to ignore him, we didn’t want to put anyone in danger, but the bastard kept showing up in the middle of the night. We locked our door, he still got in. We tried everything, but no matter what we did, he was still there when he woke up in the night.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Paul asked.

Earl gritted his teeth. “We didn’t know who we could trust. Whoever was helping him get inside would have been watching us. Makes sense that it was that pissant Gregory, but for we knew it could have been one of the Saviours we took in.”

“What about the fire?” Daryl asked. “You think it was the Saviour who set that?”

“He was at Hilltop that night – angry. Pissed off because we were giving him shit information,” Earl said.

Maggie folded her arms. “I wish you had come to me. I could have helped you.”

Maggie was right, they could figured it out. Found a way.

Tammy took Earl’s hand. “We’ll leave.”

Paul straightened next to Daryl. He knew what was going to come out of Paul’s mouth before he spoke. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

Whilst Daryl understood why Tammy and Earl had betrayed them, he wasn’t going to be able to let it go so easily. The information they had given the Saviour had put Paul it danger on multiple occasions.

“Did you tell him about Negan? The plan we had?” Daryl pressed, wanting to know how far they had taken it. “Did you tell them about the run to the factory, the one that led to Paul almost dyin’?”

Guilt cracked Tammy’s composure. “We didn’t have a choice.”

Jaw clenched, Daryl shot back, “Yeah, you fuckin’ did.”

Paul placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Daryl.”

Daryl pressed his lips together for Paul’s sake.

After that he kept his mouth shut whilst the couple were asked more questions. Daryl thought it was pretty pointless. They had fucked up, good and proper. Gregory had obviously been the one helping the Saviours. Hopefully the fucker would get eaten before the day was up.

Next on the agenda was deciding what to do with them.

Maggie spoke first. “You still have a place at Hilltop,” she told them, “if you want it.”

Daryl could see the wheels turning in Rick’s head, knew the man wasn’t entirely happy with Maggie’s declaration, but after the way everything went down with Negan, he wasn’t going to say anything to go against her decision. Paul’s relief, on the other hand, was palpable.

Tammy looked to each of them, tears in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Maggie and Rick nodded. One by one so did everyone else until Daryl was the only one left. Paul looked at him, waiting to see what he would do.

“Fine,” Daryl sighed. Paul had him wrapped around his finger and he just wanted it over and done with so they could all get on with their lives.

Paul moved to his side, placing a hand on his back. “Thanks,” he said quietly whilst the others finished up.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“Yes, I do,” Paul said.

Daryl shrugged

Maggie walked over to them as everyone started to pile out. Tammy and Earl looking a little shell shocked that they weren’t going to be punished. “I’m glad that’s over. When Rick told me about them, I knew there had to be a good reason they’d betray us.”

“Me too,” Paul said, his eyes lowering to her stomach. “You’re getting so big.”

“Thanks,” Maggie laughed, shoving him backwards. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

Daryl drew her in for a hug. “No surprise that he’s gay.”

“Hey!” Paul exclaimed. “I’m smooth. I can be smooth.”

Daryl laughed. “Yeah, alright.” Maggie was grinning at them. “What?” Daryl asked.

“I just love you two together. You work.” Daryl didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything. “Rick said you’re adopting a boy?”

His heart squeezed in both terror and joy. “Yup.”

“As descriptive as ever,” Maggie teased, rubbing his hand across her belly. “When are you making it official?”

“Tomorrow,” Paul answered with a smile. “We wanted to get this out the way first. Now that it’s done, we’re going to pick him up tomorrow.”

“So does that mean you’re staying here?”

They looked at each other. No decision had been made yet. Daryl shrugged. “For now, maybe.”

Maggie studied them closely. “If any of your reservations are about leaving me, get rid of them. I’m good,” she said, truth in her tone. “Better, anyway. I’m not going to fall apart if you decide to live in Alexandria. I get it, Daryl.”

Paul spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth. “We are going to stay. For a while, at least.” Daryl glanced at Paul, eyebrows raised. “What? You want to stay here and I know you’re not going to say it so I’ll say it for you. Jackson had been through a lot too, he needs stability. Sarah and Jake are in Alexandria, he knows them.”

Maggie shifted, discomfort crossing her face. “I agree. They’ll be good support for you both and Jackson.”

“Are you okay?” Paul asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah. The baby has started punching all my internal organs. I was going to stay a few days, but I think I’m gonna head back today,” she said with a wince. “This will probably be my last trip before the baby comes.”

“We’ll come and visit you soon,” Daryl told her. “Give us a few weeks to get into a routine with the little man and we’ll be there.”

“I’d like that,” she admitted. She looked over her shoulder. “I better go and round up everyone, see who wants to come back with me. I’ll come find you before I leave.”

They watched her walk away after both giving her a hug. Daryl turned to Paul, taking in his handsome face. Damn pretty boy. “You good?”

Paul took a moment to think about it. “Yeah.

“You sure about that?”

Placing his hands on Daryl’s hips, Paul tugged him closer. “Yeah, I think so. Just gonna take me a minute to catch up with everything that’s happened over the last few months.” He paused, laughing.

“What?” Daryl asked him.

“You would barely look at me three months ago and now we’re adopting a baby together. How crazy are we on a scale of one to ten?”

“A hundred I’d say, but I ain’t complainin’. Life is good. It’s only gonna get better.” Old fears were hard to completely bury. “You ain’t changin’ your mind, are you?”

Paul threw his arms around Daryl’s neck. “No, baby. I’m worried that you are going to change _your _mind.”

“That’s fuckin’ impossible,” he stated. How could he make Paul understand? “I always wanted a family, but I never thought I could have one. I’m trash, Paul.”

Paul’s hand took hold of his jaw, his eyes serious as they focused in on Daryl’s. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“Well that’s how I always thought of myself,” Daryl shrugged, ducking his head. “I didn’t think I deserved what everyone else had. You made me see that I do.”

Paul lips were a hairsbreadth from his, his breath warm against Daryl’s skin. “I love you, Daryl Dixon, so much.”

“I love you too.” It was becoming easier to say. Easier to express how he felt.

They were gonna be alright. It was a knowing, a feeling that was unfamiliar to him. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to what come next. Building a life with Paul. Teaching Jackson all the things a kid should know, plus how to survive.

Paul kissed him. “What do you wanna do with our last night of freedom?”

Daryl arched a brow. “You really gotta ask me that question? With that fully furnished house Michonne gave us, no reason why we can’t move in right now. Have some privacy.”

“I like how you think, Mr Dixon.” Paul’s voice lowered, becoming husky. “Think anyone will notice if we disappear for the rest of the afternoon?”

Daryl took hold of his hips, grinding his growing erection into Paul’s. Shit, should he be doing that in a church? “Don’t give a fuck if they do.”

Paul chuckled. “Lead the way.”

Taking hold of his hand, Daryl did as he was told.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty fucking good.


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter - hope you enjoy and thanks for reading (if you made it this far!)

6 Months Later

“Fuck!” Paul half-screamed against his pillow, Daryl pounding into his ass with relentless force.

Daryl reached around to clamp a hand over his mouth, hissing. “You’re gonna wake Jackson.”

_Your fault, _he wanted to say. If Daryl weren’t so good at fucking him, he wouldn’t be so damn vocal every time they had sex.

Daryl let go of his mouth and took hold of Paul’s hips, tilting and hitting deep inside with every stroke. Paul would never get enough of Daryl, the precious moments they spent together. Every day something happened to remind them that life was fragile which only made Paul appreciate him more.

He took everything Daryl had to give him, loving the weight of the man above him, driving into him. “You look so damn good takin’ my cock,” Daryl gritted out, his fingers biting into the flesh on his hips. Paul sucked in a breath, holding it. Pleasure was streaming through his body, zapping at his nerve endings.

He moved his hips to meet Daryl’s, losing his fucking mind, going wild beneath his man. Daryl spat on his palm, reached around and took hold of his cock, leaving him begging for release. He lasted another minute before his cock was spurting all over Daryl’s hand and the bedspread. Shit, they really needed to be less messy. Neither of them liked doing the laundry, but it was kind of a necessity when their cum was getting on everything.

Daryl thrust into him a couple more time, a low moan escaping his lips when he came deep inside his ass. Collapsing onto the bed, Paul bones melted against the mattress. The quick, rough ride was a good way to be waken and remind him that he was alive.

He was half aware of Daryl coming down beside him. His body sought connection, so he shuffled closer, resting his head on Daryl’s chest. He didn’t care that he was sweaty and sticky, all he cared about was the skin to skin contact.

Daryl’s hand came down on his hair, stroking absently. “You think the neighbours can hear us?”

“If they can, I’m betting they’ll be jealous of all the amazing sex we have.”

“Glad we can still get it,” Daryl murmured, “the kid was definitely cockblocking us for a couple of months there.”

Paul couldn’t disagree with that. It had seemed like every time they were about to have sex, Jackson would start crying. It had been amusing and frustrated in equal measures. Luckily, the little one had broken out of that habit before his balls had burst.

As if on cue, the baby monitor sounded, Jackson’s cries reaching them through it. “Shit,” Daryl said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll go get him, you clean up.”

Paul groaned, the thought of getting out of bed unappealing. “Do I have to?”

“Unless you wanna smell of sex for the weddin’, yeah, you lazy asshole.”

He bit into Daryl’s nipple. Lightly, of course. “Good job the kid is cute or I’d give him back,” Paul joked. And it was a joke, he had never regretted the decision to offer Jackson or home, take him in as their own son.

In everyway that mattered, he was their son now. To cherish, to teach, to love.

Paul finished cleaning himself off and made his way down to the kitchen, finding Daryl with Jackson in his arms. A smile lit up his face as he watched them together. During the last six months, the two had cemented their bond.

“_Someone_,” Daryl said, looking at Jackson with affection, “thinks six in the mornin’ is an acceptable time to wake his ass up.”

“You woke my ass up at six in the morning. Literally,” Paul said, kissing Jackson on the top of his head. “If he learns all his behaviour from you, we’re gonna be in trouble.”

“At least he’s sleepin’ through the night now.”

The first couple of months had been rough. Jackson had taken that long to settle in with them, settle into the routine they had pieced together. It had taken them two days to realise they had thrown themselves in the deep end, but luckily their friends had given them all the support they needed, including Sarah and Jake.

Though they weren’t sure how long Sarah was going to be around for. Unfortunately, her condition had worsened, and she wasn’t doing so good. They were all working to ensure that she had as much time with Jackson as possible before the inevitable happened.

“You wanna feed the kid or take the dog for a walk?” Daryl asked him.

Paul leant over to kiss him, Tyr dancing around their feet. “How about we let Tyr out back, get some breakfast and then we all go for a walk? It’s going to be a slow day until the wedding.”

“Sounds good. Can’t believe Rick and Michonne are gettin’ married. Why they wait until she was eight months pregnant anyway?” he grumbled, putting Jackson in his chair.

Paul started on their breakfast, glancing over his shoulder at Daryl making faces at Jackson. “Do I detect a hint of censure in your tone?”

“She could go into damn labour.”

“At least a doctor will be nearby,” Paul commented, mixing the batter for pancakes. Daryl let Tyr out the backdoor, throwing the ball out for him. “It’s going to be a good day, especially with everyone coming in for the wedding.”

They had been back to Hilltop a couple of times a month since moving to Alexandria so they had seen Maggie and her son, Hershel. They had even made it over to the Kingdom to see Carol and the King, but it had been a long time since they had all been together. All had a reason to come together and celebrate.

“I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ everyone.”

“Me too.”

Daryl snuck up behind him, wrapping his arms around Paul’s waist, nuzzling his neck. “We’re gettin’ married soon.”

Paul leant into Daryl’s hold. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

“Do I need to?”

Paul pretended to think about it for a second. He must have taken too long because Daryl spun him around. “Hey! Pancakes!” he reminded Daryl, shoving the bowl onto the countertop.

Daryl’s expression was serious. “You know I want to marry you, yeah?”

“Yes,” Paul replied. Daryl showed him a thousand different ways every day. Paul had considered asking Daryl to be his husband, but something told him Daryl was waiting for something. “What are we waiting for?”

Daryl shrugged. “Wanted things to settle down so we could do it properly.”

Paul cocked his head. “You want a big wedding?”

“Nah, just wanted to do it properly. Like Rick and Michonne are doin’. So are you gonna marry me?” It was a total ‘Daryl’ way of asking, almost self-conscious in its approach as if Paul would ever say no. He was gone for the man.

“Of course I’m going to marry you. Name a date, a place and I’ll be there. Always.”

A smile broke out on Daryl’s face. “Thought you’d make me sweat more than that.”

Paul lifted his hands to Daryl’s cheeks. “Like I’d do that to you.”

Daryl scoffed. “You damn well would and you fuckin’ know it.”

“Language,” Paul scolded, looking over Daryl’s shoulder to Jackson who was taking a drink out of his sippy cut, waiting for his breakfast with a patience that left Paul in awe.

“Pretty sure it’s too late for that today. It was your screamin’ when we were fucking that woke him up.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “You like my screaming.”

“Well, yeah,” Daryl said, laughing, squeezing him tightly. “Now get back to makin’ my breakfast.”

A couple of hours later, wearing their best clothes, the three of them walked down to the church. It had taken Paul at least half an hour of whining and a blowjob, but he had talked Daryl into putting on a clean t-shirt. Jackson looked adorable in some little black chinos and a dark blue shirt that matched his eyes.

He had started walking last month and was still getting used to the method of movement. He fell over when he ran too fast. That was also adorable. Everything that he did was adorable. Except when he threw his food all over the floor, or tried to feed Tyr chocolate.

He and Daryl had decided to ask around about Jackson’s mom. They had filled half a notebook of stories about her so that Jackson would be able to know his mom someday. It was important to them and it would be important to Jackson as he grew older.

Interlinking his hand with Daryl’s, he sighed contently. “So I asked Sarah and Jake if they could take Jackson tonight. I wanted some time with you and we don’t know how much longer she has. It might be the last overnight stay he can have with them together.”

Daryl nodded sadly. He had grown close to the couple, they both had. “Did you have somethin’ in mind for tonight?”

“Thought we could get a little drunk, be irresponsible for a few hours.”

Daryl smiled at him. “Sounds good.”

“And I wanted a night with you before that run next week. I’m going to be gone for a week.”

Daryl scowled, making Paul wish he hadn’t brought it up. They rarely went on runs together anymore because they thought it was important that Jackson had stability which meant one of them stayed home. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the choice they had made.

It was fine when it was just for a day or two. The long hauls were the worst because of the length and the added element of danger. It usually meant venturing to a new place with unknown threats. Being out there sucked, waiting at home sucked even more.

“I don’t want you to go,” Daryl pouted. Paul hid his smile, certain that Daryl would kick his ass if he called him out on the pout.

“I don’t want to go.” But he would because they both did their part for the communities. He slid a glance to his man. “You know I’ll always come back to you.”

“You know if you didn’t, I’d track your ass down and haul you back. We both need you.”

“I need you too. I’m not going to let you go easily so remember that. Every time I’m out there, you, Jackson and Tyr are on my mind. I love you, I know you love me. I’m always going to be as safe as I can, just like I know you will,” Paul said pointedly. Both of their reckless streaks have been curbed a little which was good. Safer.

“I will,” Daryl replied. “You know I will.”

“I know. So trust me to do the same. I’ve got a lot to live for Daryl Dixon.”

“Why you always gotta say my full name like that?”

Paul smiled. “Because I love you and I love it. When we get married, am I gonna be a Dixon?”

“Do you wanna be a Dixon?” Daryl asked him, with a hint of incredibility.

Paul answered carefully, because he knew Daryl’s family were a sore spot for him. “I do.”

“Are you sure? I could take your last name.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, Daryl. You’re the best man I know, I would be honoured to take your last name.”

Daryl shook his head a little. “You’re a first-class weirdo, baby.”

“Why? Because I want your last name?” Paul chuckled, nudging Daryl with his shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Daryl insisted.

Paul raised his brows. “No, it isn’t. Are you really going to kick up a fuss about this?”

“Nah” Daryl answered, “not if your serious. If you’re fuckin’ with me, you’ll be punished.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he responded. Daryl’s ‘punishments’ were always the best.

“Behave,” Daryl warned with a smile in his voice.

Reaching the church, Paul lifted Jackson in his arms. He had learnt the hard way that his son was an escape artist in the making. Daryl had laughed his ass off when Jackson had slipped from his sight, recalling their first meeting, stating karma was a bitch.

A smile broke out on his face when Carol approached them, Ezekiel by her side. Daryl gave her a long hug, nodding his head towards her new husband.

“Hey,” he greeted them both. 

“It’s so good to see you both and you!” she directed at Jackson, taking him in her arms. “You’re growing so fast.”

Jackson giggled at her, trying to grab hold of the King’s dreadlocks. He shook his head softly. “Ah ahh, little one.”

“Well he looks healthy, well dressed and hasn’t got any visible injuries so I would say you’re both doing a great job with him,” Carol said with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Jackson’s cheek.

“Daryl let him touch his crossbow the other day,” Paul said, throwing his man under the bus.

Daryl shoved him a few steps. “Asshole.”

“Well you did.”

“No harm in him touchin’ when I’m supervisin’.”

“Very true, he’s going to need to learn someday,” Carol commented.

Paul tried to ignore the pang that sent through his chest. He didn’t want Jackson to have to fight, he wanted a better world for him and the other kids. Better than the one that even came before this.

Daryl’s arm came around his shoulders, offering comfort. “Still got a few more years for that yet.”

Paul let himself be held watching Carol’s expression flatten a little. The arrival of Rosita and Siddiq brought the lightness back into their conversation. Daryl took hold of Jackson again, bouncing him on his hip.

Siddiq and Rosita were officially a couple, Paul had been told. They kept their mouths pretty tight lipped about what was going on between them, but he could understand that. He and Daryl had been the same. Being on the other side of it, he could understand the appeal of being a little nosey. In a small community, it was amazing what made the headlines. It was better than talking about what was outside the walls all the time.

He followed the group inside the church, his hand finding Daryl’s ass. It was pretty hard to keep his hands off. Daryl could set him off with one look, it was embarrassing. After saying hi to a few more old friends, they found a row of empty seats. Jackson crawled onto Daryl’s lap so Paul retrieved a few of his toys out of the bag of baby goodies to keep him occupied – luckily he had remembered to pack ones without sound.

Once he was settled, Paul moved closer to Daryl, resting his head on his man’s shoulder. It would be their wedding day soon and he was looking forward to it.

Michonne was beautiful, her stomach heavily pregnant and her eyes full of love. These moments were what they lived for. The freedom and safety to express their emotions. The white dress she wore flowed to the ground, her hair twisted into an intricate knot on top of her head.

Rick looked more nervous than the dozens of times Daryl had watch him walk into battle which was funny as hell. They fit, Daryl thought. They were a team, their connection forged from loss, determination and love. Just like himself and Paul.

Daryl looked at Paul, looked to the child sitting in his lap, fighting sleep and wondered what the hell he had done to get earn this life. Nothing sprung to mind. Everything he had done had been about his and his family’s survival and a lot of it he wasn’t proud of.

The ceremony was short and sweet, the couple much more interested in throwing a celebration for themselves and their friends. Daryl thought it was because they were already a unit. Already married in their hearts, just as he and Paul were.

Fuck, he _was_ getting sappy.

Once they got to Rick and Michonne’s house, Daryl took Jackson upstairs to Judith’s room to finish up his nap. He joined the others in the garden, his eyes immediately seeking out Paul. He was in conversation with Jerry and Maggie, a breath-taking smile lighting up his face.

Was it wrong of him to be grateful for the decimation of the world? Before he had been nothing, he’d _had_ nothing, except a family who seemed to hate him more than they liked him most days. Now he had a man who loved and accepted him and a son who grew more attached to him each day.

Maybe it was wrong, but he wouldn’t go back if he could. There were a lot of things he would change - or maybe not, because every single thing that had happened had led him to the life he had now and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Paul locked eyes with him, said something to Maggie and made his way through the crowd. He handed Daryl his beer. Daryl took it, swallowing a mouthful of the lukewarm beer.

“How’s our boy?” Paul asked.

“Comfy in Judith’s bed. Where is she at, anyway?” he searched for the little girl.

“She won’t leave Michonne’s side,” Paul said, pointing over to where Michonne stood with Judith attached to her hip. Rick was trying to get her to go into his arms, but she wasn’t having any of it. “She’s going to be a little hellion.”

“Yep,” Daryl agreed, placing the empty beer bottle down on the table. He pulled Paul into his arms, placing a kiss on his lips. “It’s been a good day.”

Paul wiggled his brows. “It’s going to be an even better night.”

“Gettin’ woken up by my cock wasn’t enough for you?” he whispered, aware that although it felt like they were the only two people in the world, it wasn’t the case. He doubted everyone wanted to hear about their sex life.

Paul kissed his way up Daryl’s neck. “Oh it definitely was, but I can take a lot more.”

“Hmm,” Daryl licked his lips. “And if I want to be the one taking it?”

“That can be arranged too,” Paul said with a mischievous grin.

Fuck, he loved this man.

No matter what the future held for them, he was in it for the long haul. With Paul to lean on, he knew he could get through anything. They could get through anything, 


End file.
